“I’m sure you’ll catch up to her eventually.” He kept his expression calm as he stood and walked around his desk to stand in front of Johnson, a flicker of a smile touched his lips and faded.
“Of c-c-course, my lord,” Johnson stammered, heat rolling up into his face until he felt as if he were standing in front of a raging inferno.
Granville could feel the saliva pooling in his mouth at the palpable fear emanating from Johnson. When this is all over perhaps he would sample his fear?
CHAPTER SIX
Bye baby bunting
Daddy’s gone a hunting
Gone to get a rabbit skin
To wrap his baby bunting in
The next day, Parker sat in his study with his secretary, Cecil Fothergil, making arrangements to search out where Miss Persephone Smith came from and taking a moment to collect himself sufficiently.
“My lord?”
Parker looked up into Fothergil’s questioning gaze realizing he had been woolgathering and swallowed some brandy. He never had issues with concentrating in the past, but he was daydreaming about a bedraggled girl. How had he gotten lost in her large, sad green eyes? Mesmerized by her fiery red hair? He sighed heavily. He was older, more world-weary, yet there was something in her eyes that made him pause.
Fothergil tilted his head towards Parker. “Is there anything else?” He had seen Lord Ashford dedicated to a task before, that was nothing new, but he had never seen him distracted by the same-said task.
“I know nothing else at this time,” Parker’s reply succinct and not at all like himself; his body radiating an unusual tension.
Fothergil glanced down at his notes and looked up again. “My lord, how will I be able to search for a girl with nothing but these mere scraps of information and…this?” He held up the ring.
“This seal is a familiar one.” Parker scowled. “But I cannot seem to place it.” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw glancing at the ring held between Fothergil’s thin fingers which he had found among Miss Smiths belonging while she slept. “Go to London and research the seals. The ring is quite clear and the sapphire is exquisite.”
Fothergil glanced back down at the ring.
“Someone will know to whom it belongs. A man’s signet is significant Fothergil, you are fully aware of its importance.” He looked at his secretary, lifted his eyebrow and waited. “She was guarding it with her life,” he murmured. Then he took back the ring and replaced it with an excellent drawing.
Fothergil picked up the paper and studied the drawing. “Of course, my lord.”
“It is obviously of great import,” Parker said as he leaned back and crossed his arms. “Why else wouldn’t a starving girl have sold it for food and shelter?” He was silent for a moment. “It is important,” he spoke softly. “It is the key.” He looked up. Christ, but this was a complicated mess.
Fothergil stood and bowed. “I will send a report as soon as I have anything of significance.”
After Fothergil’s departure, Parker sat in deep thought when from the study door came a hesitant scratching. Blast. “Come in!”
Dobbins opened the door. “Forgive my intrusion, my lord, but a note has arrived from His Grace, the Duke of Hawksley and I felt you might want to learn its contents immediately.” Dobbins’ eyes twinkled as he handed over the letter.
Parker raised an eyebrow at Dobbins, but released an audible sigh. “Thank you, Dobbins. I’m quite sure it is of momentous import.”
“Of course, my lord, will that be all?”
Parker’s mouth lifted in a shadow of smile. “If there is information of great significance, you will be the first to know.”
“Of course, my lord.”
Parker broke the seal and couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. “Gabriel Ashford Trenowyth, the Earl of Foxworth.” He read aloud with a laugh.
A son.
An heir.
Immense joy.
Parker pushed away from his desk and stood. There was much to celebrate.
***
“A ragged young girl and a baby were spotted in Bracknell at the Thorny Rose no more than a fortnight ago, my lord.”
Granville cocked his head raising his brow a fraction, his florid complexion heightened by his anger.
And without Granville having said a word, Cooper’s face drained of color.
“If indeed you have finally uncovered her direction, Cooper, why is it that you are standing before me now instead of making haste to the Thorny Rose?” Granville shook his head. Incompetent bastard.
“Y-y-yes, my lord,” Cooper stammered his expression faltered into worry as he backed out of the room. He had heard the stories. Afraid that if he turned his back on the brutal man he would not make it out of the door at all.
Granville sat back in his chair thrilled with the new knowledge that he was growing closer to knowing her whereabouts. He was looking forward to punishing her disobedience. He stared into the fire and then smiled coldly.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Lullaby and good night, with roses bedight
With lilies o’er spread is baby’s wee bed
Lay thee down now and rest, may thy slumber be blessed
Lay thee down now and rest, may they slumber be blessed
She slept. Four more days passed and she slept. The dark shadows were slowly fading to only hints of lavender beneath her eyes and the color was returning to her cheeks thanks to the regular meals she received.
And for the past two days, Parker pulled one of the deep blue chairs from in front of the fire and sat beside Miss Smith’s bed. He surveyed her at his leisure from the top of her long red hair, the smattering of freckles that were sprinkled over her nose and cheeks, to the thin lines of her body beneath the thickly piled blankets. He thought of every scenario that could have brought her to Rosebriar, not knowing that he would probably never guess the truth in a million years.
It had been his intention to avoid the room at all cost. He didn’t want to grow too attached to her or her daughter. At first it was just a peek, then it was soothing her crying baby, then it was conversations, until it had grown to this. Waiting. He waited for her to open her eyes so he could question her.
He lifted Tillie from the cot and tucked her in the crook of his arm before carrying her to the chair. He sat, stretching his long legs out. He watched as Miss Smith’s chest rose and fell in rhythmic breathing. She wasn’t classically beautiful, but she was adorable with the light dusting of freckles over her nose and deep green eyes, especially now that the dark smudges had faded and the hollows of her cheeks were beginning to be filled. She hadn’t truly smiled yet, but he’d wager that when she did smile, it lit up her entire face.
“Your mother would be furious if you were taken from her sight, so I have been left with no choice but to visit you in her room.” Parker spoke softly in the quiet. Tillie tugged playfully on his finger and drooled. “It has been ages since a baby has lived at Rosebriar and I’d forgotten how delightful it is to hold a babe in my arms,” he added, resting his head on the high back of the chair and watched as Miss Smith slept. The sweet sounds of Tillie combined with Miss Smith’s easy breathing lured him into a relaxed state giving him a chance to truly observe her. A thousand questions perched on the tip of his tongue, but they would have to wait until she was awake. He looked into Tillie’s deep green eyes and toyed with her delightful red curls. “My youngest sister has delivered a son so she is unable to return to Rosebriar for Christmas it is good that you are here for us to shower with gifts.”
Parker smiled as Tillie dragged his finger to her mouth and began gnawing on the tip with her soft gums. “Ahh…you must have teeth about to erupt. That explains everything, little one. I will have nurse bring you a tough rag to chew on, that always soothed Piper.” He pulled out his unused fine linen handkerchief monogrammed with a curling P and placed it in Tillie’s flailing fist. He stared down at her with narrowed eyes, then smiled. “Let’s see if I remember anything.” He rubb
ed his hand over his mouth. His eyes widened and he held up his finger. “Ahh, I’ve thought of one, but if you breathe a word of this to anyone...” He was sure that if he could view his reflection in the looking glass, he would have an immense look of satisfaction on his face. “Pat a cake, pat a cake, baker’s man, bake me a cake as fast as you can. Pat it and prick it and mark it with a ‘B’, and put it in the oven for Baby and me.” He laughed, putting his chin on top of Tillie’s head.
The deep rumble of a man’s laughter startled Persephone out of her slumber and she sat up in the bed, her hand held to her fluttering heart. “Oh, Mr. Peregrine, umm…Lord Ashford.” Her eyes widened, her sleep ruffled hair fell over her feminine shoulders. “You frightened me.” She pushed her hair off her face and glanced towards the door to see that it stood open for proprieties sake and if she needed to scream. She blew a stream of air out.
“My apologies, Miss Smith. That was not my intent,” he said in his deep, smooth voice. Her wide green eyes were lovely, her pale skin looked delicate enough to break, like his mother’s favorite china, was now bathed in a delightful pink blush causing Parker to pause.
“Lord Ashford, you owe me no apologies. I am the one who must beg for your forgiveness. I’ve been beyond rude. My reaction to your hospitality is reprehensible.”
Persephone held out her arms. “May I hold my daughter, my lord?” Her brow rose inquiringly.
Parker looked startled and then he smiled. “By all means.” Standing, he placed Tillie in her arms, then filled a cup with the still steaming pot of tea hoping it would help to ease the dryness in her throat. He sat again, crossing his right ankle over his left knee watching her slender throat working as she swallowed the sweetened brew. “Miss Smith, I cannot fathom what circumstances led you to the predicament you now find yourself, but I can assure you I have not taken offense by any of your responses and neither has my aunt.”
Persephone’s eyes stung with unshed tears, a hitch in her breath. “I fear I must look a fright, my lord.” Her hand rose to her hair in an attempt to smooth the mussed, wayward strands.
Parker appeared to consider the comment thoughtfully for a long moment, his head cocked at an angle.
Persephone sat with wide eyes waiting to see what he was going to do.
Then he reached out and touched a thick red ringlet that had fallen directly in the path of her right eye and tucked it behind her ear. “There.” His smile lit up his blue eyes. “Much better. You would be an asset in any London ballroom, Miss Smith.”
She let out her pent-up breath, then looked about the room. “I thought I heard you speaking with another. Have they left?”
Parker threw back his head and barked out a laugh, stunning her with the rich, husky sound, his unreserved outburst disturbing Tillie. She let out a soft cry before turning her face into Persephone’s breast and settling back down. “If you must know, I was speaking with Tillie.” He nodded towards the infant.
“Tillie?” A small smile broke across Persephone’s face at his comment disappearing almost as quickly as it had come, but it did not go unnoticed.
Parker grinned over at her, totally unabashed. “She is a fair listener, Miss Smith.” He smiled a smile that filled his entire face. “And her manners are practically perfect, which is a compliment to her mother’s diligent teachings.” He shrugged. “She rarely interrupts my long winded speeches.”
It was Persephone’s turn to smile. “A fair listener she is, the rest I cannot say.” She acknowledged before scooting back against the headboard and propping herself against the mound of pillows. She paused, looking down at her daughter. “She and I have had many a conversation on a lonely night.” She stopped, her brow furrowed. “Were you reciting a nursery rhyme, my lord?”
A flash of color highlighted his sculpted cheekbones. “Guilty, Miss Smith.” He gave her a stare that had her fidgeting where she sat.
She tightened her arms around her daughter.
“Where are you from, Miss Smith?” He broke the silence by asking suddenly.
Persephone straightened at the question her feelings of distrust now on high alert. “Is it necessary for you to have that information, my lord?”
“How can I assist you, Miss Smith, if I know nothing of you?” he countered smoothly, leaning forward in his seat, his long, lean fingers curled over the ends of the arms of the deep blue chair.
Instead of answering, she made a statement, her expression remaining guarded. “How can I trust you, I know nothing of you.”
It seemed uncovering the truth would be a challenging undertaking. “I have virtually unlimited resources and numerous acquaintances that could be at your disposal, Miss Smith, if you would but allow it.”
“Why would you offer me that?” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion and a look of puzzlement drew her fine brows. “I am nothing to you.” She exhaled hard.
“I am well aware that you know nothing of me, Miss Smith.” A solemn frown on his face, then tilted his head to look at her more closely. “But why do you find it difficult to accept help when you so obviously need it? Surely you will not allow your pride to overtake necessity. Perhaps if you thought only of Tillie, then you would not find it as difficult to accept my aid.”
Her expression was sad but she spoke with a degree of urgency. “And if I do not inform you of where I am from, will you toss us out?” She held her breath waiting on his response, her heart pounding.
Parker’s gaze came up sharp and witnessed the brave but despairing look that flashed in her eyes. He shoved to his feet, the chair scraping loudly across the floor and Persephone flinched. “I can assure you, Miss Smith, that I would never throw you or Tillie out of this house. And I can promise you this that you will not leave this house unless you can prove to me that you have somewhere better to go.” His tone was soft, yet firm at the same time brooking no argument.
A strange relief filled her as her eyes locked on his. She dragged in a breath and fought to dam the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes.
Parker reached into his jacket pocket to pull out his handkerchief, forgetting that it was still clutched tightly in Tillie’s clenched fist. He watched as Persephone’s chin began to tremble and tears flowed like a waterfall down her cheeks.
Parker leaned over and removed the sleeping infant from her arms, carrying her to her cot and laid her down. He stood still, dragging in angry breaths disturbed by the fear that had flashed in Miss Smith’s eyes. Disturbed that anyone could harm any woman and child, let alone this specific woman and baby. He thought of his own sisters and what he feared he would do if they came to harm and was surprised that the protective instincts he felt for Miss Smith and her daughter were already running as deep.
He turned back towards the bed and Miss Smith. She felt his gaze but refused to meet it. “Do what you must to ease your fears, Miss Smith. Cry, scream, curse.” He ground out angrily.
At his words she forced her watery gaze to his blue eyes that were flashing sparks of anger. How did he know? How did he know she wanted to shout and scream?
“But know this.” He sighed heavily. “No one will harm either you or your daughter while you are under my protection.” Parker looked at her solemnly and said with dangerous quiet, “No one.”
Persephone was so tired. She drew in a deep breath. “Thank you, my lord,” she replied, her voice quivering a little.
They were both silent for a moment.
His smile was indulgent. “We are unconventional in this house, informal if you will, Miss Smith. You may call me Parker as any one of my intimate acquaintances would.”
“Impossible, my lord.” Persephone cast down her eyes.
He lowered his hand and lifted her chin. Her eyes were closed and he could sense her internal struggle. “You will call me Parker and I will call you Persephone as if we have been lifelong friends.” She opened her eyes and Parker grinned, his white teeth gleamed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I have not received the slightest hesitation from Tillie. S
he is perfectly content with treating me as an intimate acquaintance. Why can you not do the same?”
She twined her fingers together in her lap. “It is unseemly, my…”
He cut off her protest holding up one manicured hand. “Besides, you would be doing me a great favor if you acknowledged our burgeoning friendship.”
“How so, my lord?” she asked cautiously, doubt spreading across her face.
He watched as she worried her lower lip, weighing the request. “I swear it is not solely a selfish request, but if we were intimate acquaintances, then I mustn’t dress for dinner.”
Persephone paused for a moment at first doubt was still evident on her face, then her lips twitched and he watched as her fight to hold back her laughter failed miserably.
Parker’s brow quirked at the soft tinkling sound she made. “Please say you will accept my request, Persephone.” A small smile played around his lips as he searched her eyes with his gaze.
His persuasive. It was clear the he expected her to acquiesce. Persephone allowed herself a deep sigh before replying, “Yes, my lo—Parker.” His name fell from her lips in the softest of whispers.
And he smiled. It was quite a dazzling smile that lit up his entire face and brightened his already incredible blue eyes to the clearest blue.
“Splendid. Then it is settled.” His deep voice was rich with satisfaction. His mouth quirked up in a lopsided grin that revealed a devastating dimple that until that moment had been hidden in his right cheek.
Persephone sucked in a breath, her cheeks flushed. He was too beautiful to be an ordinary man. She would call him an angel, but he was much too dark to be an angel. How else could she describe him? He had saved her. He had saved her daughter.
Rescue Me Please Page 6