“I should lose it very quickly if I did, sir.”
“As I thought. Peter, I’m very sorry.”
“I know. But I can survive until this afternoon.”
“Good. Unfortunately, the prince insisted you be kept in bonds until he’s left the harbor. He has some misguided notion you might try to harm him—or wants other people to believe that. But I shall speak to the chief of police, I think, before I set foot in the street again. I’ll entrust that money to him and tell him to the penny what you should have when you are released, and I’ll ask Dundas to check on it later to be sure you were not robbed or ill-used.”
“And then, sir? Should I take the ferry and leave here? I don’t wish to embarrass Mr. Dundas any further than I already have. He’s been very good to me, and if my presence would shame him, I shall leave as soon as possible. Have you any counsel for me on what I should do?”
“If I were you, boy, I’d stay on this beautiful island. I’ve told Dundas how the wind blows, and I think he’ll be tolerant, though you mustn’t expect him to receive you socially.”
“I would never presume that much, sir.”
“No, you wouldn’t, would you, my lad? I do think you’ll find your niche here after awhile. It’s a good place to live. And after all, you have family here.”
Peter drew in a deep breath. “Yes.”
Washburn smiled. “Don’t underestimate your cousin David or your great-uncle Anson. They are good people, and they, more than anyone else, will understand your plight.”
“They have a thriving farm,” Peter noted.
“Yes. You’ve always shown an affinity for my tenant farmers and a love of the soil. Think about it. Perhaps they could help you find a place here in the colony.” Washburn put on his hat. “It’s a good thing to have family near when you’re in a strange place. I’d be very surprised if the Orlands didn’t welcome you into their circle. And don’t forget that lovely second cousin of yours.”
Peter’s face warmed at the mention of Molly. “I shan’t, sir.”
“I thought not. She shed tears for you last night. That’s not a bad thing, either.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Molly rose after only four hours of sleep and put on her black dress. She groomed herself carefully. In the kitchen, she found her mother at her worktable, scrubbing the wide hem of the white gown in a large pan of water.
“I don’t know if I can get all the mud out.” Mum sighed. “Probably the folks at Government House can do better, but I didn’t want to send it back all spattered like that.”
“I never intended to wear it home,” Molly said.
“I know, dear.” Mum gave her a weary smile. “Eat some oatmeal. The tea’s steeping.”
“What if they turn me away when I get to Government House?” The fear had come to Molly before she fell asleep. What if Mr. and Mrs. Dundas refused to let her come back to work because of her part in the prince’s embarrassment?
“Then you come home.” Mum raised the stretch of fabric she’d been washing and scrutinized it. “I’m going to press this dry and send you in the wagon with Nathan driving. You can’t carry the crinoline all the way in to Charlottetown.”
“What about Allison?” Molly asked. “Shall we give her a ride? She’ll know something’s happened.”
“She’ll know if you don’t stop too, now, won’t she?”
“I suppose so.”
Mum walked to the stove and lifted the teakettle of hot water. “Do you really think it won’t be the talk of the island today?”
“I don’t know.” Molly bit her lower lip, trying to remember everything the earl had said in the garden at the ball last night. “Lord Washburn was going to try to hush it up, and since his nephew is involved, he’ll do his best to make sure Peter isn’t slandered and…” Tears filled her eyes for the umpteenth time since she’d seen Peter arrested. “Oh, Mum, what if the prince insists they punish him to the fullest? He’s innocent.”
“I know, child. Mr. Stark shouldn’t be punished at all, or even put to shame. He should be honored for what he did. But because the man he confronted is royalty, his life could be ruined.”
“Worse than that. You don’t think they’ll hang him, do you? Oh, Mum!” Molly threw her arms around her mother’s neck and clung to her, sobbing once more. “He did it for my sake, and it was all so unnecessary. It would have been better if I’d simply refused to walk outside. There might have been a little fuss and I might have been snubbed, but what does that matter? Peter’s life is in danger now.”
“There, there.” Mum patted her back. “You didn’t feel you could say no to the prince, did you?”
“I suppose not. But I should have—Papa warned me about this very thing. I didn’t think it could happen to me.”
“We’ve got to trust the earl and the Good Lord, Molly dear. Come on, now. You can’t go to work with a red nose. Sit down and eat your breakfast. I’ll wake Nathan and have him harness the horse. And then I’ve got to finish with this dress.”
An hour later, Nathan and Molly carefully carried the gown and crinoline, with the rest of the borrowed clothing, out to the wagon and mounted the box. After further discussion, they’d decided to say nothing to Allison or anyone else on the chance that somehow word of the incident hadn’t become public knowledge. Nathan would pick up a newspaper in town so they would know whether the journalists had gotten hold of the story. If Allison already knew, it would be hopeless, but if she’d heard nothing, there was still a chance the earl had managed to quash the scandal.
Nathan stopped the wagon near the Johnsons’ gate. Allison ran out of her parents’ house, grinning, and climbed to the seat beside Molly.
“We get to ride today? How jolly!”
“Yes.” Molly waved a hand toward the sheet covering the borrowed finery in the wagon bed. “It was late when I got done last night and Nathan brought me straight home, so I have to return the gown and all the other things this morning.”
Allison’s eyes shone. “Hello, Nathan! Molly, what was the ball like? Tell me everything! Did you dance with him?”
“With whom?” Molly asked uneasily.
“The prince, silly. Did he speak to you?”
“Of course. He…asked me about my family and…basic things about the island. The kind of things he probably asked every woman he danced with.”
Allison laughed. “Did you do the same? ‘And what’s it like, living in a palace, Your Highness? Do you like having eight brothers and sisters? Do they all share their toys nicely?’ Ha!”
Molly smiled at that. “I don’t believe I said anything of the kind. I did ask how he enjoyed his stay on the island.”
“Brief as it was.” Allison sighed. “They’re still planning to leave today, I suppose.”
“Oh, yes, it’s all settled. His Royal Highness will meet the representatives of the Indian tribes this morning and tend to a few other details, and after luncheon the prince will board the Hero.”
“Ah, but I heard a slight revision of that plan from Mrs. Randolph last evening just before I went home.” Allison leaned toward Molly, eager to impart her news. “The prince’s chef will prepare luncheon aboard the ship, and the governor and Mrs. Dundas will eat with him on the Hero, in the harbor, while the Flying Fish, the Ariadne, and the Cossack stand by. After the meal, the Dundases will come ashore and then the salutes will be fired and the prince will set sail.”
“It sounds like a fitting send-off,” Nathan said, without meeting his sister’s gaze.
Molly couldn’t help being a little bit glad that “Bertie” wouldn’t be dining at Government House that day and there would be no chance of her being called upon to serve the royal guests at luncheon. But what about Peter? she longed to ask. Where will he be while all the pageantry takes place?
They rode along listening to Allison chatter about the distinguished visitors and what the other kitchen maids thought of them all and the bracelet the prince had bestowed upon Mrs. Dundas.
&
nbsp; “Did you see it at the ball, Molly?” she asked eagerly. “They say it’s fabulous.”
“Only from a distance. It has a blue enamel medallion.”
“I heard it bears the Prince of Wales’s crest and plume in diamonds,” Allison said.
The nearer the wagon came to Government House, the more Molly’s nerves stirred. Her stomach clenched as they passed through the gate and into the back garden.
“Do you want to go in first and see if the way’s clear?” Nathan asked. “I can help carry that contraption up the stairs if they don’t mind.”
“Perhaps Allison and I should take it.” Molly glanced warily toward the door of the laundry.
Nathan eyed her soberly. She’d told him before they picked up Allison how much she dreaded meeting Mrs. Bolton or Thompson. “Just pop in and see what’s what, then. I’ll wait.”
Molly hopped down and hurried to the door. She heard and felt Allison behind her but didn’t speak to her friend for fear that her voice or her expression would give away her anxiety.
No one had begun work in the laundry yet. They hurried into the kitchen. The cook was measuring out ingredients at the table across the room, but the American chef was nowhere to be seen, and only two kitchen maids had started their morning work.
“ ’Morning,” one of the kitchen maids called.
Allison stopped to chat with her while Molly ventured to the passageway leading to the back stairs. As far as she could tell, all was clear. She dashed back outside. Nathan arched his eyebrows.
“Let’s do it quickly. Cook is puttering about for breakfast, and Allison will be expected to pitch in soon.”
Nathan hitched the horse and went to the back of the wagon. By the time they had the draped gown and crinoline out, Allison had returned.
“Can you grab the shoes and that small bag?” Molly asked.
“Got it.”
Molly went in first, holding up her side of the awkward frame for the hoopskirt. Nathan followed, keeping his gaze downward. The cook glanced their way but said nothing, while the maids stared openly at Nathan.
“We got a new useful man?” one of them asked.
Molly laughed. “He’s my brother.”
“Ah.” The way she said it spoke volumes, and Nathan flushed to his hairline.
“He’s useful on occasion,” Allison said with a chuckle.
At the stairway, Molly halted. “You go first, Allison. Make sure no one’s about the upper halls and that we can get into Deborah’s room.”
“You don’t want to take it directly to Thompson’s wardrobe?”
“We might meet someone.” The thought of coming face-to-face with Mrs. Dundas or even the prince made Molly cringe. It was early yet for the aristocrats to be about, but the governor often rose at sunup for a ride. Even that thought distressed her, as the last time she’d known Dundas to do it, Peter had gone with him.
After much maneuvering of the hoops and histrionics by Allison as she peered around corners, they arrived at Deborah’s chamber. Allison quickly placed her burdens inside and came back into the narrow passageway.
“I’ll help from here on, Nathan. ’Twouldn’t be proper for you to go in, seeing as you’re not employed here.”
Nathan released his end of the crinoline. “All right. Shall I find my own way out?”
“No, wait for us,” Molly said. “We wouldn’t want anyone to find you wandering the halls alone. If one of us is with you, we can explain things.”
They soon had the clothing placed where Molly could get it easily after she’d had a chance to speak to Thompson about returning it.
“I must dash,” Allison said. “I’ll see you this afternoon if not before.”
Maybe, Molly thought. If I don’t get sacked.
She sighed and turned to Nathan in the hallway of the servants’ quarters. “Well, I guess there’s no way around it. I’ve got to report for work. If Mrs. Bolton tells me I’m fired for promoting a scandal last night, I’ll…I’ll just…” Tears splashed down her cheeks onto the frill of her apron.
“There, now.” Nathan touched her shoulder. “They won’t dismiss you.”
“Won’t they? The prince was very upset, and not just with Peter. He was angry with me for resisting his advances. I think that’s why he was so harsh with Peter.”
“Maybe so, but you can’t change that.”
Molly nodded. “You’re right. I just hope I don’t have to see His Royal Highness ever again.”
Together they scuttled down the back stairs. Molly slipped into the laundry with Nathan. The two laundresses were pouring the day’s first wash water into their big galvanized tubs.
“Do you want me to wait awhile?” Nathan asked.
“No, go on home. Papa needs you. If they toss me out, I’ll walk home.”
She went back to the kitchen.
“Ah, there you are, Molly.” The head parlor maid, Roberts, stood in the doorway to the passage. “We need to set up the breakfast things quickly. The master has gone out riding this morning, and he and the gentlemen with him could be back soon.”
Molly hurried into the breakfast room and mechanically set out dishes. Plates, flatware, bowls, cups, saucers, finger bowls. Eustace, the footman she’d met at her initial interview, came in with a steaming silver coffeepot.
“Good morning, Molly.”
“Good morning to you.”
Eustace set the coffeepot down. “They say that Mr. Stark has already left, and so has Captain Grey. The prince and his suite will want breakfast before His Royal Highness inspects the Volunteers and meets the tribal leaders, though.”
“And when will that be?”
“I believe they’re to be at the Colonial Building by eleven, which means they’ll probably start ringing for breakfast trays any time now.”
Mrs. Randolph peeked in from the kitchen. “The Duke of Newcastle just rang, Eustace. Take his coffee and toast straightaway, and don’t forget the cream pitcher this time.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Molly reached into the sideboard, took out a small tray, and handed it to Eustace. Milton came in with a larger serving tray that held several covered dishes.
“The governor and his riding party just returned to the stable,” Milton reported.
The men who had been out on horseback would most likely take their breakfast downstairs before going up to change their attire. Molly closed the cupboard and strode toward the door.
“Ah! The hot dishes are ready. Charming.”
Molly looked over her shoulder. General Bruce had come in to look over the prospects of breakfast and now headed back toward the hall door.
“Teesdale! Snag Bertie and tell him they’re just putting breakfast out. Quicker to eat in here than to have them carry it up.”
So the prince had joined the riding party this morning. Molly gulped and picked up a dish. Any excuse to leave the room before he came in.
Major Teesdale looked in over Bruce’s shoulder. “Right you are, General.” He spotted Molly and grinned. “Miss Orland, isn’t it? I enjoyed our romp across the boards last night.”
Molly opened her mouth and closed it again.
Teesdale laughed, and she flushed uncomfortably warm.
By now Bruce had turned around to stare at her. “By George, it is Miss Orland. Good morning to you, miss.”
“Th–thank you, sir.” Molly edged toward the kitchen door. “If you will excuse me.”
Teesdale stepped out into the hall and cried, “There you are! Look who’s serving our breakfast.”
The Prince of Wales appeared in the doorway with a faint smile on his lips. “Who? Oh.” His gaze bore into Molly.
She gulped and dropped a curtsy, managing to hold onto the dish she held.
The prince nodded. “Well, then, coffee ready or what?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Peter held his arms out so the turnkey could unlock his shackles. When the chains were off, he rubbed his tender wrists. “Thank you.”
“Bye, now,” called one of Peter’s erstwhile cellmates.
“Don’t forget us, will you, Petie-boy?”
Peter waited until the door was safely secured between them and then replied, “Never.”
The three inmates’ raucous laughter followed him down the passageway between the cells.
Once in the front lobby of the police station, he was handed his clothing, his wallet, the pouch entrusted to him by Washburn, his penknife, cuff links, and the handkerchief, few coins, and small tinderbox he’d had on him at the time of his arrest. The last item the sergeant placed on the pile was a dance card with the name Molly Orland written on the line for the one dance they’d shared.
“I believe you’ll find everything in order, sir. I regret that we had to keep you, but the Hero’s just passed out of the harbor. The prince’s orders—you understand.”
Peter nodded.
“If you find all your plunder intact, sign here, and you can change your duds in yonder.” The sergeant pointed to a doorway.
Peter opened his wallet. The letters were there, just as he had left them. He counted the money he’d been given for the journey.
“I’m short a fiver, but everything else seems in order.”
The sergeant eyed him cautiously. “Are you certain, sir? I made sure my men hadn’t disturbed anything. They all swore they hadn’t.”
“I’m willing to overlook it.”
The sergeant nodded. “Good of you, sir.”
Peter picked up the pen, dipped it into the inkwell, and signed P. Stark. He bundled his belongings into his arms. As he walked into the small, bare room where he was to put on his civilian clothing—his formal evening clothes from the ball—he once more considered leaving the island. He had enough cash to do so. But the red soil and his newfound family had won him over. He knew he couldn’t leave, now that he’d gotten to know Molly. Could he fit in here and find a way to earn a living? Or would he be looked upon as an outsider and a felon?
A bath and a shave—the routine he’d begun to take for granted in the earl’s service—were only to be dreamed of. He shucked off the prison garb and quickly pulled on his own trousers, stockings, and shirt.
Love Finds You in Prince Edward Island Page 23