The Dream Chasers

by Melinda Hammond

  'Oh, you poor child!' exclaimed Eustacia, with ready sympathy. 'What has happened to you?'

  She reached for the girl, guiding her out of the darkness with one arm around her trembling shoulders.

  'Who did this to you?' she asked.

  'A gen'leman.' The girl spoke with difficulty through her cracked and swollen lips. 'Acos' I wouldn't—I wouldn't—'

  'No gentleman would do this!' muttered Miss Marchant. 'Come, my dear, tell me where you live. I shall take you home.'

  Tears spilled over the bruised cheeks.

  'I ain't got no 'ome. I—I ran away, see. Got a ride on a wagon into Lunnon.'

  'Did you think to get work here?' Eustacia asked, her voice warm with sympathy.

  The girl shook her head.

  'I—I come to find Tom. 'E's my beau, see, and 'e come to Lunnon to be a footman in a lord's 'ouse. 'E said 'e would send fer me, but I couldn't wait. I 'ad to tell 'im, to tell 'im . . .'

  'Tell him what, my dear?'

  The girl burst into tears, sobbing loudly, and Eustacia drew her into her arms, her warm heart touched by such misery. By this time, Lady Bilderston had come in search of her god-daughter. At the sight of Miss Marchant with her arms about the decidedly shabby figure, my lady threw up her hands.

  'Mercy me, what is this, Eustacia? What is amiss here?' she demanded, as she approached with Mr Alleyne beside her.

  Eustacia's green eyes glittered angrily as she looked over the sobbing girl's head.

  'This poor child has been attacked. I found her crying in the alleyway, and she tells me she does not live in London. We must take her with us, Godmama, and look after her until we can take her safely home again.'

  Lady Bilderston drew back in horror.

  'My dear child, you cannot take up a perfect stranger!'

  'Well, neither can we leave her here,' reasoned Miss Marchant.

  Mr Alleyne pulled out his purse.

  'If you wish, I will give the girl the fare for a hack to take her home.'

  'She has no home!' declared Miss Marchant. 'She—she ran away to London.'

  A small crowd was beginning to gather, and Rupert looked about him uneasily.

  'Stacey,' he hissed, 'look at her clothing. She is a serving-wench.'

  'She is no less a child!' retorted Eustacia, her arms tightening around the shaking form.

  'M-Miss Marchant, I beg you—leave her.' said Rupert. 'We are beginning to attract attention.'

  Eustacia looked up, noticing for the first time the interested faces gathered about them. She was unconcerned with their curiosity, and soon returned her attention to the girl, who was still sobbing quietly.

  * * *

  At the edge of the crowd, a gentleman in a silk evening cloak lowered his quizzing-glass and flicked an amused glance at his companion.

  'I can see no scarlet stockings, old friend, but would that be . . . ?'

  Mr Lagallan's mouth twisted into a wry smile.

  'Yes, Denny,' he murmured, 'it would!'

  * * *

  Eustacia fixed Lady Bilderston with an anxious gaze.

  'Godmama, pray say we may take her up with us.'

  'Well—that is—I— Oh, my child, how can you be sure she is telling the truth?'

  'Quite so,' agreed Rupert, trying to take control. He held out his hand towards Miss Marchant. 'Come along now,' he said firmly. 'This is not your concern.'

  'It is the concern of every Christian!' she flashed, her eyes very bright.

  'If I might make a suggestion?' said a voice.

  Eustacia looked round as Mr Lagallan stepped out of the crowd. He was smiling, but not unkindly. He bowed to Lady Bilderston.

  'Ma'am, I believe I saw your carriage but a few yards away: perhaps Mr Alleyne should direct it here?' He watched as that young gentleman nodded eagerly and hurried off, then he turned back to the ladies. 'I think, my lady, it would do no harm to take the girl with you, if Miss Marchant is set upon it.' His lips twitched as he surveyed the crowd around them. 'You can then continue this discussion in—ah—a more private mode.'

  Lady Bilderston pouted.

  'I have to say I think you are right, sir.' She gave a sigh. 'Very well. Come, Stacey, bring the child.'

  The carriage rumbled up to them, scattering the onlookers, and Rupert jumped down ready to hand in his charges. His jaw dropped when Eustacia approached, her arm still firmly about the girl's shoulders.

  'Y-you cannot take her in the coach!'

  'Well, I don't know what else we are going to do with her!' snapped Lady Bilderston, exasperated.

  The smile in Mr Lagallan's eyes deepened.

  'Denny and I will make room for you in my carriage, Alleyne, if you would prefer that,' he said softly.

  Rupert's lips thinned. He said stiffly, 'Thank you, but I think I know my duty!'

  Eustacia bundled the girl into the coach.

  'Pray do not come with us if you are going to be horridly cross, Rupert!'

  'He is not cross, my dear,' drawled Vivyan. 'He is merely concerned at the tongues that will wag over this!'

  Miss Marchant's chin went up.

  'Let them wag!'

  In the far corner of the carriage, Lady Bilderston threw up her hands.

  'My dear child, pray do not talk so! Mr Alleyne, do not stand there in the doorway— are you coming with us or not?'

  'Of course he is.' Mr Lagallan gave Rupert a gentle push. 'Go to it, Alleyne. It's a rare thing in these modern times for a gentleman to have such an opportunity to rescue a damsel in distress!'

  As Mr Alleyne climbed into the coach, muttering under his breath, Eustacia glanced out of the window at Vivyan, a slight doubt shadowing her eyes. Meeting her glance, he smiled, and Eustacia relaxed, insensibly cheered by his silent support.

  The coach rattled through the dark streets, and Miss Marchant kept her arm about the young girl, thankful that the tears had now subsided to the occasional sob.

  'Do you know,' she said, handing the child her own snowy handkerchief, 'I think we would go on more comfortably if we knew what to call you. What is your name, my dear?'

  'N-Nan,' came the stumbling reply.

  'Nan. What a pretty name. And you came to London to find your beau?'

  'Yes'm.'

  'Well, perhaps tomorrow I shall help you to find him.'

  'Oh, no!' Nan turned two dark and tearful eyes towards Miss Marchant. 'No, ma'am, 'tis no use! Is already seen 'im, but 'e says—'e says . . .' She stopped, fighting back a fresh bout of tears. ' 'E says 'e can't 'elp me, bein' as 'ow 'e's new to 'is post.' She twisted the handkerchief between her fingers. T—Tom says 'e can't consider a wife until 'e's first footman, at least!' Tears ran down her bruised cheeks. ' 'E don't want to marry me, miss! I d-don't think 'e ever thought of marryin' me!'

  'Oh, my poor child! Did Tom do this to you?' Miss Marchant gently brushed the dusky curls from the girl's wounded forehead.

  'Oh, no, miss, that weren't Tom! After I see'd 'im this mornin', I thought p'raps I could find work, that mebbe Tom'd change 'is mind, when 'e'd 'ad chance to get used to me bein' around. B-but no one'd take me, 'cos I ain't got no letters tellin 'em that I's honest and 'ard workin'. Then Mrs Bates comes up to me, very kind, like, and she says I could stay with 'er, and she'd look after me, and if I was a good girl, and did as I was bid, I should 'ave a room of me own, and—and a good wage.' Eustacia felt a shudder run through the girl's body.

  'She—she took me to 'er 'ouse, and put me in a room with . . . with a man. "There you are, sir," she says. "A ripe peach for 'ee, fresh from the country." And then she goes out. . . and— and locks the door.'

  Lady Bilderston tutted, and Mr Alleyne shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

  'Really, Eustacia, I think this should wait—'

  'Nonsense, Rupert. It is better that the child finish her tale as soon as may be. Go on, Nan, pray do not be frightened.'

  The girl shuddered again, and glanced up at the shadowy figures around her.

  ' 'E—'e ki
ssed me,' she whispered. 'But it— it wasn't like Tom's kisses. These were hard, and—and—' She broke off, burying her head against Stacey's shoulder. 'I—I wanted 'im to stop, Miss, but 'e only laughed, and when I tried to push 'im away, that's when 'e belted me.'

  Eustacia felt the tears welling in her own eyes, and she had to blink them away.

  'Poor Nan,' she muttered. 'Don't worry, my dear, no one shall hurt you again, you have my word on it. Is that not right, Godmama?'

  'Yes, yes, but how did the child come to be in the alley beside the theatre?'

  'I—I escaped through a window.'

  'Oh, good for you!' declared Miss Marchant. And no one came after you?'

  Nan shook her head.

  'There was an 'eavy candlestick on the table, and I—I 'it the man with it. 'E fell to the floor. I don't think I killed 'im.'

  'Little matter if you did,' muttered Eustacia. 'I think we should inform the magistrates!'

  Rupert uttered a strangled cry.

  'Stacey! Would you have us embroiled in murder?'

  'I would have the villain pay for his crimes!' retorted Eustacia, fiercely. She looked down at the girl. 'Nan, dear, do you think you could find Mrs Bates's house again?'

  But Nan merely shook her head, declaring that she had been walking for over an hour, and had no idea of her route.

  'Well, I've no doubt this little episode has given you a distaste for the town,' remarked Rupert. 'If Lady Bilderston will be kind enough to give you a bed for the night, I will find you the fare to go home in the morning.'

  'But I can't go 'ome, sir!' wailed Nan. 'I can't never go 'ome!'

  'Hush, child, pray do not distress yourself,' said Miss Marchant, hugging her. 'Why do you say you cannot go home?'

  The girl hiccuped.

  'Acos',' she whispered, 'acos' I'm with child.'

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  At these words, Lady Bilderston sank back in her seat with a low moan, and Rupert was obliged to smother an oath. Only Eustacia seemed unaffected. She did indeed blink, but did not remove her arms from the girl's plump shoulders.

  'Is it Tom's baby, Nan?' she asked, gently.

  The girl nodded.

  'And does he know?'

  'Y—yes.'

  And still he will not marry you?'

  ' 'E—'e said 'tisn't 'is—'e said I'm a—a—but I ain't!' cried Nan. 'Believe me, Miss, I ain't allowed no one near me but Tom, and then 'im only because 'e said 'e'd wed me.'

  'And so he shall,' declared Eustacia. 'He shall be made to marry you.'

  'Stacey! Pray, be serious!'

  'I am most serious, Rupert.'

  'But he has refused to own the child!'

  'I expect that was because he was frightened,' opined Eustacia, sagely. 'We must talk to him, assure him that he shall find a post where he may support his family—an even better post than his present one! Who is his present employer, Nan?'

  'L-Lord Erringden.'

  'Erringden?' cried Rupert. 'Why, he is one of the richest men in England!'

  Nan nodded. 'Tom's uncle is second footman at one of 'is lordship's 'ouses, and 'e put in a word for Tom.'

  'Well, I can see that any young man would think himself fortunate to find such a position,' admitted Eustacia. 'But we must hope that he can be persuaded to own up to his obligations to this poor girl, and marry her. If that is what you would like, Nan?'

  'If she would like? Oh by heaven!' exclaimed Rupert, striking his forehead. 'Stacey, this is madness!'

  'No, no,' she said, soothingly. 'It is a tangle, I admit, but nothing we cannot solve.'

  'We?' muttered Lady Bilderston, in failing accents.

  'Why, yes, Godmama! I would have liked to track down this Mrs Bates, and punish the man responsible for Nan's injuries, but that does not seem to be possible, and so we must be thankful that we have at least saved the child, and now I shall need your help in finding a post for Nan's young man!'

  * * *

  A night's sleep did much to restore Nan's spirits, although it brought no solution to her plight. However, she was content to remain at Fanshawe Gardens, confident that Miss Marchant would soon find an answer. Eustacia pondered the problem as she joined Caroline Lagallan for their afternoon ride in the park. They soon came upon the Major and his brother, and Vivyan, noting her distracted air, asked after her protege.

  They had fallen a little way behind the others, and Eustacia glanced about her to make sure they were not overheard before giving Mr Lagallan a full account of Nan's adventures.

  'The poor child is still in some discomfort, and her eye is badly swollen, but she is very much better this morning. I left her shelling peas under Cook's watchful eye.'

  'And you plan to marry her off to this Tom? I wish you luck there!'

  'You think it an impossible task? Perhaps, but I think that once Tom becomes used to the idea that he is to be a father, he will regret sending Nan away.' Her brow wrinkled. 'My biggest problem is to find him a suitable post, if Nan is correct that his present employer won't allow him to marry. Godmama does not require another footman, and in any case I do not think London is the best place to bring up a baby; I would prefer to find them something in the country. I have written to Grandpapa, asking him to make enquiries in the neighbourhood, but I cannot expect to hear back for some time yet.'

  'I am surprised you have not asked me to help you place them.'

  Her eyes flew to his face, but she was reassured by the gleam in his dark eyes, and returned his smile.

  'You have done so much for me already, Vivyan. I vowed I would not trouble you with this. Unless, of course, you are looking for a footman?'

  'No, brat, I am not! But you and young Alleyne will be setting up your own establishment very soon, will you not? You will be sure to need extra staff

  Eustacia frowned.

  'Perhaps,' she said doubtfully, remembering Rupert's behaviour the previous evening. 'However, I would much rather have Tom and Nan settled before then.'

  Mr Lagallan smiled down at her.

  'You are working very hard on behalf of this maid, Stacey.'

  'She reminds me of what might have become of me,' she replied in a low voice. 'Nan came to London to find Tom, and arrived penniless, friendless—very much like my own case, if you had not happened by.' She looked up, a smile trembling on her lips. 'I owe you so much, my friend.'

  For a long moment green eyes held black, and she felt her breath catch in her throat. Her heart began to pound heavily as she read the message in his intense gaze.

  'Eustacia—'

  Mr Lagallan was interrupted by a cheery voice hailing him, and Mr MacCauley trotted up.

  'Well met, Viv, my friend! And Miss Marchant, your most obedient servant, ma'am!'

  Mr Lagallan glared at him. 'Well, Nathan?'

  Mr MacCauley's smile did not falter.

  'Couldn't ride by without a word, my friend!' His grey eyes narrowed. 'I trust I am not interrupting anything?'

  Eustacia felt her cheeks grow hot.

  'Not at all,' replied Vivyan, in his easy style, moving forward to shield Eustacia from MacCauley's gaze. 'So have you settled your affairs now, Nathan?'

  'Aye, almost. Been with the lawyers all morning—dashed officious breed! Wanted proof positive of my identity before they would part with a penny. Not that there's a great deal, when all's said—' He broke off, glancing apologetically at Miss Marchant. 'But you don't want to listen to me prosing on about these legal matters! Suffice it to say that I have a snug little property in Dorset. I am a man of substance, Viv, like yourself!'

  Mr Lagallan returned a non-committal answer, and after a few more moments Mr MacCauley touched his hat and trotted off, Miss Marchant gazing thoughtfully after him. Vivyan glanced at her.

  'I mistrust that look, Stacey. What plans are you hatching now?'

  A pair of green eyes turned innocently towards him.

  'Nothing, sir! Only . . . a property in Dorset! Do you think perhaps he will be requiring more servants
?'

  'No!' Mr Lagallan frowned at her. 'Stacey, I forbid you to foist that young woman and her beau on to Nathan MacCauley! He's an adventurer, m'dear. Best leave well alone.'

  'So, too, were you an adventurer,' she reminded him.

  'But I, my dear, have the advantage of a considerable fortune. Unless I am very much mistaken, Nathan MacCauley will have little to show of his inheritance once he has settled his bills in Town. He has been living pretty high, you know.'

  'So you think he cannot help me?'

  'I know it! Besides, you don't even know yet if this Tom will agree to your plans.'

  * * *

  Eustacia was well aware of that fact, and it was with some trepidation that she escorted Nan to the little gardens to meet her beau later that week. With the aid of one of Lady Bilderston's footmen acting as a messenger, and a handful of silver coins, Miss Marchant had persuaded Tom to meet Nan on his free afternoon. As she took Nan to the gardens, she spotted a thin young man pacing up and down one of the walks. She guessed his identity before Nan had uttered his name, and restrained her companion from running to meet him.

  'Wait, child. We do not want to frighten him away.'

  The young man eyed them warily as they approached, but Eustacia put on her most friendly smile to greet him.

  'You must be Tom. I am delighted to meet you. Nan has told me all about you.'

  Tom flushed, and stammered something inaudible. She continued, 'You know that Nan is going to have your child?' A hunted look appeared in the slightly protuberant blue eyes. 'It is your child, is it not? Pray tell me the truth, for believe me I only want to help you.'

  He hung his head. 'Yes'm.'

  'Then do you not think you should marry Nan?'

  'I should o'course, but I can't! 'Is lordship'd cast me off if 'e was to find out. Strict, 'e is, and don't allow none of 'is under-staff to be wed.'

  'Well, what if I was to find you a suitable post with some other gentleman? One who would not object to your having a wife. Would you marry Nan then?'

  'Ah, s'pose I might do,' he said slowly. 'If I could be sure it was as good a position as this'n.'