by Darcy Burke
“Eloping,” Audrey said, sidling closer to him and putting her arm around his waist. There was no sense hiding what they’d been doing. And really, what else were they going to tell them? Their plan, rather, Ethan’s plan, had been to simply drop her at Bassett Manor and leave her to explain how she’d gotten there. However, now that they’d both encountered the Foxcrofts and they’d been caught in an embrace, it seemed a new plan was in order.
Miranda and her husband looked at each other, doubt clearly etched on their faces. Her mouth curled into a confused moue. “You came here on your way to Gretna Green?”
“Something like that,” Ethan said smoothly, moving away from Audrey. “We’ve come a long way. Might we go to Bassett Manor for a bath and perhaps a meal?”
Miranda straightened. “Of course! We only just arrived for the assembly, but we’ll have the coach take you home.”
Fox looked at her, his mouth lifting in a half-smile. “Shouldn’t we go with them? For propriety’s sake?”
“Why bother? They’ve clearly been traveling alone.” Miranda glanced at Audrey who was certain her face had turned a vivid scarlet. She gave her a commiserative smile. “Sorry, dear.” Miranda touched her husband’s arm. “I’m sure they want to get cleaned up. We’ll see them later. I refuse to miss the quarterly assembly.” She turned to look at Audrey and Ethan. “You see, my husband is the finest dancer in all of Wiltshire.”
Audrey didn’t think it would be seemly to argue that Ethan was, in fact, the best dancer in all of England. Probably because her opinion had more to do with his kissing than his actual dancing skill.
Mr. Foxcroft scrutinized Ethan. “Gretna Green, you say? You’re a bit out of the way if you’ve come from London.” His gaze raked over them again and he clearly wondered why they were dressed as they were—Ethan in an incomplete suit of clothing and Audrey in an unfashionable, ill-fitting sack. Thank God she at least had the bonnet to mask her disastrous hair, though she suspected it was a catastrophic mess after the way Ethan had tangled his hands in it. Heat bloomed in her belly and she tried desperately not to think of their kiss. Rather, kisses.
Ethan’s features were placid, his smile benign. “As I said, it was something like that. We’re not on our way to Gretna Green.”
Audrey recognized what he was doing; he’d done it with her the past few days. He acted as though he was answering questions in a polite fashion, but in reality he didn’t impart the information one was looking to ascertain. Then again, he’d also outright ignored her questions or told her plainly that he wasn’t going to answer them. She decided this was a better tactic.
“Might we discuss this later, Foxcroft?” Ethan asked. “I’d like to see Miss Cheswick to Bassett Manor right away.”
“Certainly, and it’s Fox.”
Ethan held out his hand. “Ethan Locke.”
Miranda offered her hand to Ethan, who pressed a kiss to her glove. “Fox, you remember, he’s Lord Lockwood’s brother.”
Ethan smiled broadly. “Indeed. We, ah,” he glanced at their horses, “have mounts that will need to be tended.”
“We’ll send a couple of grooms to collect them when the coach comes back to retrieve us. Fox?” She inclined her head toward the coachman.
Fox shook his head at her, then went to direct the retainer. When he returned he said, “Everything is organized. The coachman will take you to Bassett Manor straightaway.”
“Thank you.”
Miranda went to Audrey and linked arms with her. “Pardon us, gentlemen.” She moved her away a few steps and whispered, “What the devil are you doing here with him?” Her gaze dipped over Audrey’s form. “And just look at you. Good Lord, what happened?”
“It’s a dreadfully long story. I’ll tell you about it later.” Which will give me time to figure out exactly what to say. “However, if you have clothing we might borrow . . .”
Miranda waved her hand. “Of course. Just ask my maid for whatever you need.” She turned and led Audrey back to where Ethan had moved to stand near the coach. “See you later!” She waved, then dragged her husband into the assembly.
Ethan, meanwhile, helped Audrey into the coach and climbed in after her. They started moving almost immediately and the rumble and sway of the vehicle, and its delightfully cushioned seats, were a welcome respite from horseback.
Ethan sat on the seat opposite her. The lantern inside the coach showed the firm set of his jaw and the lines around his mouth. “That was unfortunate,” he said.
“Them catching us? Yes.” She’d been about to say the kiss had been anything but; however, she decided it might be better if they didn’t discuss it. Not when Ethan looked annoyed. “Are you angry?”
His features relaxed slightly and he leaned his head back so that he was looking at the ceiling of the coach. “No. I just have to readjust my plan.” He lowered his gaze and directed her a half-amused, half-frustrated look. “They think we’re eloping.”
“What else was I supposed to say? They saw us . . . you know.” Audrey scooted toward the corner where the lantern light didn’t quite penetrate, in the hope of shadowing her flaming cheeks.
He pulled the curtain aside and looked outside. “I don’t know. I suppose we’ll simply tell them tomorrow that we’ve changed our minds. I’m sure they’ll agree to come up with a story that will preserve your reputation.”
“My reputation is beyond preservation.” She had no remorse about this, but recognized her family would be devastated. However, there was nothing she could do about it now. “My grandfather knows I left with you.”
He dropped the curtain and sat back. “If everyone thinks I kidnapped you, your reputation could be salvageable.”
She laughed, but it was hollow. “You don’t really understand Society, do you? I could tell them all you stole me away in the night but didn’t lay a hand on me. No one would believe that. Besides, I won’t let anyone think you kidnapped me, because you didn’t.”
A long moment of silence stretched between them before she continued. “Let’s just tell them we’re going to America together. Then we can leave after your arm is healed.”
“And actually go to America? My life—my brother—is in London, Audrey.”
“You left London. In quite a hurry too. Won’t Bow Street be waiting for you when you return?” How she longed to know why they were pursuing him.
“Probably.”
This time the heat in her face was due to anger. “Why won’t you just tell me what happened? It can’t possibly be worse than killing someone, and you’ve already admitted to that.”
He rubbed his hand over his eyes. “Audrey, please don’t ask me. I’ve told you far more than I’ve ever told anyone.” He lowered his hand and settled a dark glare on her. “Don’t make me regret that.”
She leaned slightly forward “People would help you. Your brother and Lydia. Me. And we know other people.”
“Your faith in people is astounding.” The disbelief in his tone filled the coach with a sour air. “You assume there’s a way to help me without even knowing what I’ve done.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “You see why it would be so much easier if you would just trust me?”
“What’s easy for you is bloody impossible for me. I can’t do what you’re asking.”
Weariness from the past few days of travel and from doing battle with him on this issue made her droop back against the seat. “No, you won’t. There’s a difference. I only hope someday you’ll find a way to see it.”
Chapter Seven
ETHAN WAS GRATEFUL he hadn’t had to endure an interrogation from Fox last night. When he and Audrey had arrived at Bassett Manor, an ancient pile of stone that looked as if it was undergoing much-needed refurbishment, they’d both been shown immediately to their rooms. He’d enjoyed a meal and a bath in his chamber and had forced himself to fall into bed, where dreams of chocolate corkscrew curls and aqua eyes tortured him all night long.
Now, however, the stark l
ight of a bright October morning streamed through the hall windows, and as he stepped into the breakfast room, Fox was already seated at the table.
“Good morning,” Fox said, smiling. He indicated the sideboard, which was stacked with food. “Help yourself.”
Ethan goggled at the amount and variety of items. There were ham and kippers, potatoes and turnips, eggs, bread, and cheese. It was an awful lot of food for Fox and his wife and their guests.
Fox interrupted Ethan’s cataloging of the menu. “Miranda wanted to have a proper breakfast for you. I told her it was too much.”
“Perhaps.” Regardless, Ethan was hungry and would do his best to put a dent in her array. He piled a plate high and joined Fox at the table.
Fox eyed Ethan’s plate. “Perhaps not.” He popped a bite of toast into his mouth. Then he sat back in his chair. “So, you’re not exactly eloping to Gretna Green. Pardon me, I have to ask.”
Ethan understood. It was why he’d planned what to say. He only hoped Audrey would cooperate by crying off before they went anywhere. Otherwise, he’d have to be the one to leave her, and he didn’t want anyone thinking she’d been abandoned—she deserved better than that. “No, we’re headed to Plymouth where we plan to take a ship for America.”
Fox shot forward in his chair. “The devil you say. That’s quite a departure.”
Ethan shrugged. “I’m the bastard son of a viscount. My prospects are likely better there.”
Fox settled back in his chair. “Your prospects are whatever you make them. I can see the benefit of starting in a new place, of establishing yourself. However, it’s not as if you wouldn’t be accepted here. I suspect you’d gain entry into more places as Lockwood’s bastard than I do as a legitimate nobody.”
Ethan scooped up a spoon of potatoes. “You’re not a nobody. You’re married to the Duke of Holborn’s daughter. That will gain you entry anywhere.”
“You know what I mean. Before Miranda, I wasn’t fit to clean the man’s boots.” Fox’s mouth twisted wryly. “Believe me, he told me so.”
Ethan swallowed. He understood what Fox was trying to say, and didn’t disagree with him. In fact, Ethan had counted on his ability to claim a place in Society despite his illegitimacy. He was, as Fox had pointed out, the son of a viscount. That counted for something and while it wouldn’t give him carte blanche, it would likely allow him to do just about everything he wanted.
Which was what? Attend house parties? Take tea with London’s elite? Obtain a voucher to Almack’s? He nearly choked on the bite of kippers he’d just taken. So maybe not Almack’s, the horror, but he thought he might like a house party or two. His last few days on horseback had been painful, but he’d recalled the lessons he’d taken as a lad, the promises of riding with his father, of joining him on a hunt, and he’d begun to revisit the dreams he’d thought long destroyed. Dreams that were still likely unreachable, given his problems with both Bow Street and Gin Jimmy.
“You should come with me to the orphanage today,” Fox said. “I’ll show you what we do there.”
Ethan was surprised to find he was actually tempted to stay for a few days. He told himself it was because he was tired and he wanted to rest his arm, but there was something appealing about spending a day or two with Audrey before he left. Or at least today. Since she hadn’t left her room yet this morning, there hadn’t been an opportunity to organize their plan. He might as well accompany Fox to his orphanage. “Yes, show me your orphanage.”
Fox pushed back from the table and stood. “Excellent. I’ll meet you out front when you’re finished.”
Ethan nodded and welcomed the peace of enjoying his breakfast the way he so often did: alone.
Little more than a half hour later, Fox steered his cart up the long drive to Stipple’s End, a monstrosity of a building that was equally as ancient as Bassett Manor, but less stately in its appearance. Ethan didn’t know much about architecture, but even he could recognize the house had been renovated many times over the past centuries.
He didn’t bother censoring his reaction. “How old is this place?”
Fox chuckled as he steered the cart around the building to a stable area in the back. “Six hundred years. But that’s just the original building. The various enlargements happened at different times.”
Ethan surveyed the peaks in the roof, part of which appeared to be newly repaired. “And you said it’s been in your family nearly as long as it’s been in existence?”
A boy maybe twelve years old rushed to meet them. Fox handed him the reins as he climbed down. “Thank you, Charlie.”
Ethan stepped out of the cart and joined Fox as he made his way toward the back of the house.
“We’ve run the orphanage for nigh on four hundred years, beginning when Stipple’s End came to the Foxcroft family by way of marriage,” Fox continued. “My forebears didn’t need two houses and sought to use the extra one to help the children in the district. It started as a school, actually, but gradually became an orphanage.” Fox held the back door open and gestured for Ethan to precede him into a narrow hallway.
Ethan walked inside and sniffed as a strong odor assaulted him.
Fox strode past him. “They must’ve already started painting. We’ve done a lot of improvements over the past couple of years. The roof fell into the great hall two years ago.”
Ethan followed him into a massive great hall. “That sounds expensive.”
“Quite. Luckily, I married Miranda. She inherited a property that makes an income, and I’ve been able to make improvements at Bassett Manor so that it’s now starting to earn a better income.”
“You married her for her money?” Though it was a typical occurrence, Ethan was surprised to hear Fox say so.
Fox pivoted to look at him. “Hell no. I married her because she’s Miranda. That she improved my financial state is simply a happy accident.”
Ethan felt a pang of alarm. Fox had fallen in love with her. Like Jason had fallen in love with Lydia. Christ, love was all around him. What if that happened to him—with Audrey? Falling in love had never been something he considered and now . . . there couldn’t be a worse time. If he’d needed a reason to get the hell away from Audrey, he had one now. Not that he was actually in danger of falling in love with her. He was, however, in danger of falling in lust.
“Bernard, you’re off to an early start this morning,” Fox said, moving toward the boys who were painting.
A tall lad, probably fifteen years old or so, turned. He held a round brush in his hand and had been applying whitewash to the wall. “Good morning, Fox. I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to get this done today, if possible.”
“Why would I mind your industriousness?” Fox clapped the boy on the shoulder. “Locke, this is Bernard, he’s been with us since he was what, four years old?”
Bernard nodded. “Nearly ten years.”
Ethan’s curiosity was piqued. “How did you come to be at Stipple’s End?”
“My father was in the navy, but he didn’t come home. My mother passed and the vicar—we lived in Swindon—sent me here.”
Ethan knew what would’ve happened to the boy if the vicar hadn’t stepped in. He thought of all of the children in London who ended up in workhouses or on the street. He didn’t know which was worse. He knew with certainty, however, that Stipple’s End was far better than either of those alternatives.
Fox moved around to watch two younger boys who’d gone back to whitewashing. “Painting the walls in the great hall is the final step in the long renovation. Miranda wanted to hang wallpaper, but I convinced her that whitewash was the smarter choice in a facility full of children. You’re doing a fine job, boys.”
One of them, an apple-cheeked lad who couldn’t be more than nine or ten and whose hands were covered in whitewash, flashed him a grin.
Fox nodded toward Ethan. “Come, I’ll show you the library, the only room I’ve allowed Miranda to decorate.”
Ethan trailed him along a corridor past a
grand staircase. He couldn’t stop thinking of the boys and the incredible opportunity they’d been given in coming here. “What happens to the children when they leave here?”
Fox took a right through a doorway. He turned back to look at Ethan. “Bernard has taken quite an interest in the refurbishment. We had an architectural firm from London here and Bernard was fascinated. I’m going to send him to school in a couple of years—he’s only thirteen though he looks older, I know—and then he’s going to apprentice with them.”
Ethan nearly stumbled over the edge of the carpet as he moved into the library. That an orphan would be able to make so much of his life was astounding. “This is a remarkable place, Fox.” While he was impressed and amazed, he doubted the orphanage would’ve taken him. At fourteen, Ethan had been too old for anything but a workhouse. “Do you have an age limit for those you take in?”
Fox tipped his head right, then left. “Somewhat. It’s more of a judgment call. I can tell if someone is too set in their ways to benefit from what we do. We teach them rudimentary skills such as how to speak and eat properly, how to conduct themselves in different situations. It seems like they ought to know such things, but you’d be surprised at what we take for granted in our station.”
If only Fox knew the “station” Ethan had been living in, that he knew all too well how different things were for the lower classes. He’d not only been taunted for his good looks, he’d been ridiculed because of his upper-class way of speaking and his manners. He’d worked hard to dirty his language and comport himself in a less formal fashion before he’d established himself.
Ethan glanced around the huge room lined with bookshelves. “The orphans have access to all of this?”
“Yes, I transferred all of the books from Bassett Manor here after my father died. It made more sense to have them accessible for the children. I just borrow the books I want and return them when I’m finished.”