by Cheryl Holt
She wished she were a man, that she was bigger and taller, that she could force him to listen, that she could force him to do what she said.
Tristan sighed. “It’s not up to you, Rose. If there were any other way ...”
“I’ll be alone with Maud and Miriam.”
“Just for a while. I’ll hurry home as fast as I can.”
“When you first arrived, you told me you’d always be here—till I was a grown-up. You’re not coming back, are you?”
“Of course I am. Why would you say such a thing?”
“What about Michael? When will he be back?”
“He’ll be away a bit longer than me,” Tristan hedged.
“How long is that?”
Tristan didn’t reply. Instead, he said to Michael, “Let me get her in the house.”
As if she were a baby, he tried to push her toward the door, but she wrestled out of his grasp.
She gazed at Michael. “Don’t allow him to do this,” she begged. “Order him to let Amelia stay with me. I’ll die if she goes!”
“It’s not up to me,” Michael asserted.
“You can stop him. You’re the earl”—she pointed at Tristan—“and who is he? He’s no one, that’s who! He came here where he wasn’t wanted or needed, and he thinks he can wreck everything. Stop him!”
“You’re acting like a baby. Go inside,” Michael scolded, imagining she’d heed him when he had failed her so miserably.
She was so angry that she didn’t care if she ever spoke to either of them again. She hoped they left and never returned.
Shaking from head to toe, she studied Tristan, her rage uncontrollable, her heart broken.
“If Amelia leaves,” she said, “I will never forgive you as long as I live.”
She whirled around and raced into the house.
Chapter19
“WHERE are you going?”
“I’m off to visit Helen Hamilton.”
“You are not. I forbid it.”
Clarinda glared at her brother.
“You forbid it?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not serious.”
“Keep walking, and you’ll discover how serious I am.”
Clarinda rolled her eyes. “Don’t nag as if I was still ten years old.”
“If you don’t want me nagging, don’t act like a child.”
Clarinda spun around and proceeded down the lane. “Excuse me!” Phillip snapped. “Aren’t you listening? I said that you are not to go up to the manor.”
“I heard you. I’m simply ignoring you, which I understand will be a shock when you’re so enormously conceited, but you’ll get over it.”
She continued on, pleased that she’d finally forged ahead.
She was determined to befriend Helen Hamilton, and why shouldn’t she?
They had much in common: They were the same age, and they had dubious antecedents. Hamilton worked as a governess, and Clarinda worked, too. Not at a lofty position in a fancy house, but they were both employed females.
Because of her itinerant wanderings, Clarinda had never had any friends. Whenever she met a woman she liked, they moved on before a bond could form. She’d resolved to change her life, and she thought Miss Hamilton might welcome an overture.
Hamilton wasn’t a servant or a member of the Seymour family, so she didn’t belong to any of the established hierarchies in the mansion. She was probably lonely, and Clarinda was vain enough to suppose that Hamilton could greatly benefit from an association.
Clarinda remembered her first encounter with Miss Hamilton, when she’d been poor and hungry and desperate. She’d managed to secure a post with Odell, but if anything happened and she lost it, she was awful at taking care of herself.
She hadn’t any of the common sense that came naturally to Clarinda. Clarinda’s younger years had been filled with toil and struggle, but she’d learned how to fend for herself, how to land on her feet. Along the way, she’d had her dear, larcenous brother to teach her the ropes, but Miss Hamilton had had no one like that.
When times were hard, Hamilton hadn’t a clue of how to get on.
Clarinda possessed some of her mother’s clairvoyance, and she perceived adversity brewing for Hamilton as clearly as if she were sniffing smoke on the wind.
Miss Hamilton was involved with the captain, and Jane with the earl, but if either of the affairs was exposed, Miss Hamilton’s job would vanish. What Hamilton didn’t realize, but what Clarinda fathomed all too well, was that Odell would never side with her in any genuine dispute. Within hours, she’d be out on the streets, her sisters trailing after her, so she needed Clarinda.
Clarinda planned to call on her. She’d be cordial and helpful, and hopefully she’d create a connection so that Hamilton would allow her to assist once calamity struck.
“Clarinda!” Phillip barked, marching after her. Shortly, he caught up.
“Why are you in such a snit?” she demanded. “Am I not permitted to have any friends? Am I not permitted an existence beyond this wagon?”
“You may have as many friends as you like. I just don’t want you rubbing elbows with those rich snobs.”
“I’ll do my best to avoid them.”
“Nothing but trouble will come from it”
“I’m visiting Miss Hamilton. Why would I even see any of the Seymours? From the way you’re acting, you’d think I was off to entice the earl into my bed.”
“He’s been known to turn a few girls’ heads.”
“As if I would be tempted by a boy like him! Honestly, Phillip. Get a grip on yourself.”
“I have a bad feeling about all this. What with the potions we gave them and the secret romances that are festering, I’m worried that we’ve stirred a hornet’s nest”
“Really? So am I.”
They stared, identical dark eyes brimming with concern. They would never discount such a mutual insight. Their acuity was usually spot-on, and their ability to judge people and situations had frequently saved them from disaster.
“I’d better hurry over there,” Clarinda said.
“Don’t you dare come back with any grand ideas.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it”
She strolled off, feeling liberated and carefree.
It was a beautiful autumn day, the sky blue and the temperature warm but with a hint of crispness in the air. The leaves were beginning to change, and as she entered the park that led up to the mansion, the trees were a dazzling canopy of red and gold.
She was nearly skipping, delighted to be wearing a pretty dress, to be making a social call, and she was so swept up in being glad that she almost didn’t notice Miss Hamilton, who was walking directly toward her. Peering at the ground, she trudged along, looking as if she’d been tortured on the rack. Her morose condition provided ample evidence that the catastrophe Clarinda envisioned had already occurred.
Clarinda stopped and waited until the other woman was several yards away, then she hailed, “Miss Hamilton?”
Hamilton glanced up and frowned, having been so lost in dismal rumination that she didn’t appear to recognize Clarinda.
“Miss Dubois? Or is it Dudley? Someone told me you’re not French.”
“I’m very English, and yes, it’s Dudley.”
“So your brother is a charlatan?”
“The very worst kind, but he means well.”
The remark was a paltry attempt at a joke, intended to lighten the mood, but it failed. Not so much as a flicker of a smile crossed Hamilton’s face.
“I was coming to see you,” Clarinda said.
“Me? Why?”
In for a penny, in for a pound. “I thought you might need a friend.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had one of those,” Miss Hamilton admitted.
“I realize this will sound terribly forward of me, but what’s happened? I can see that it’s taken a toll on you.”
Clarinda went over and took her hand, and Hamilton collapsed slig
htly, her knees unable to support her weight. She felt insubstantial, as if her body had no mass.
Frantically, Clarinda gazed around, searching for somewhere to sit. On a nearby path, she espied a garden bench in a shelter of trees. She guided Miss Hamilton to it and eased her down. Hamilton followed without a murmur of complaint, being visibly overwrought and relieved to have Clarinda in charge.
“What is it?” Clarinda pressed. “You can tell me.”
“It’s the very worst thing,” Hamilton mumbled. “The very worst...”
At any other period in Hamilton’s life, Clarinda knew Hamilton wouldn’t have breathed a word of shame or disgrace, but she was bewildered and shocked and had no one in whom to confide.
Clarinda had arrived at a propitious moment, content to listen and empathize, to share Hamilton’s sense of offense, and there was plenty about which to be outraged.
Tragedy never touched men like Odell or Hastings. They skated through the world, secure in their positions, in their power over others. It was women who paid the price.
“I don’t know what to do now,” Hamilton said. “I was so sure of him. I was positive he’d take my side.”
“You were mad to think so,” Clarinda advised. “A man will gravitate to his own kind. He would always have allied himself with the earl, without ever considering what you might need.”
“Jane is absolutely inconsolable. She believed the earl loved her, but he up and left without a good-bye. Can you imagine her despair?”
“Yes, I can.” At being reminded of how foolish a female could be, Clarinda sighed. “What about your bodily situation, Miss Hamilton?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re worried that your sister might be pregnant, but what if you are, too?”
The notion must not have occurred to her, or perhaps she had been so distressed over Jane that she hadn’t fretted over her own predicament.
Clarinda had herbs in the wagon that could bring on a woman’s courses to flush out the womb so a babe never became reality. She wondered if she should offer them to Helen and Jane.
Some might argue that it was wrong to use such a remedy, but when Clarinda pondered the fate of an unwed mother, with the Hamiltons destined to survive on whatever dubious charity Odell decided to provide, Clarinda would never judge what was best.
“If I am pregnant,” Hamilton seethed, “I’ll buy a gun. A very big gun, then I will hunt him down and shoot him dead.”
“That’s the spirit!” Clarinda said, witnessing the first spark of fury in Hamilton. “But let’s not kill him. Let’s make him pay through the nose. Let’s make Hastings pay, too. The bastards—pardon my language—shouldn’t be allowed to get away with such cruel mischief.”
“No, they shouldn’t.”
“There are standards of decency by which men are expected to behave. If they won’t marry, as is proper, they can cough up money damages.”
“I wouldn’t have the faintest idea how to make them. I’m so overwhelmed. I feel as if I’ve fallen into a dark pit that’s filled with poisonous snakes and I can’t climb out.”
“Have you no relatives who might speak to Odell on your behalf?”
“No.”
“When do you leave for London?”
“Tomorrow morning.” Hamilton peered down the pretty, leaf-strewn lane, but didn’t really see it. “What will happen to us there? If Jane is increasing, we’ll probably receive some cash to tide us over till the baby is born, but if she’s not, we’ll be tossed out on the street in a few weeks.”
“I wouldn’t put it past them.”
“It was so difficult to find a job this last time, and I can’t imagine my luck will have improved.”
Clarinda tried to picture Hamilton in London, fending for herself. She was smart and educated, but she wasn’t competent in any way that mattered. She hadn’t a clue how to barter, how to lie or cheat or steal.
“If you’re leaving for London in the morning,” Clarinda said, “I’m coming with you to be certain you’re safe. I won’t hear any argument.”
Phillip would be angry, but then, Phillip didn’t need to know. Clarinda would write a note and slip away before he even realized she was gone.
“Why would you help me?” Hamilton asked, appearing stunned.
“It just seems as if I should.” Clarinda couldn’t explain it any better than that. “How are you feeling?”
“You’ve comforted me enormously. Thank you.”
“Then let’s get you back to the manor.” Clarinda stood and pulled her to her feet. “I want you to buck up. You and your sister aren’t the first women to be duped by a handsome scoundrel.”
“No, we’re not.”
“You won’t be the last, either. Go into the house with your head high and your temper blazing. Show that witch, Maud Seymour, why she should be wary of crossing you.”
“I will.” Hamilton was growing more confident by the second.
“I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll be in the village, at the blacksmith’s barn. Tell your driver to stop for me.”
“COME in, Miss Hamilton.”
Helen entered the library, where a few hours earlier she’d permitted Captain Odell to insult and shame her. She glared at Maud Seymour, refusing to be cowed, refusing to have her perceive any upset.
Seymour was seated behind the massive desk, in the chair Odell had used, and Helen sat across from her.
She wasn’t sure why she’d obeyed Seymour’s summons. In light of all that had transpired, there weren’t any consequences that might arise from being rude to her. What more could Seymour do? Fire Helen—again?
“What now?” Helen snapped, not displaying a shred of courtesy.
“Let’s get something straight”
“Fine. What is it?”
“I assume you wish to follow the path Captain Odell laid out, where you’d continue to wallow in our charity by loitering in the earl’s town house until the captain’s clerk arranges your lodging and allowance.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I intend. You despicable people owe it to me.”
“Well, I’m not about to proceed with the captain’s plan, so let me explain what we’ll do instead.”
“I can’t wait to hear.”
“I will travel to London before you. I insist on being present when you arrive so I can guarantee you don’t take any valuables.”
“You presume I would... steal from Lord Hastings?”
“Why would I trust a servant who has been terminated?”
“Of all the cheeky, impudent, outrageous—”
Helen had started to rise from her chair, and Seymour calmly said, “Sit down, Miss Hamilton, so that I may apprise you of the rest of it.”
“I never liked you,” Helen fumed, standing. “Since the day I was hired, you’ve been awful to me. You’re vicious, and you’re cruel, and I won’t tolerate any more of your hate-filled diatribes.”
“Your sexual affair with Captain Odell has been exposed.”
The comment was so casually voiced, and so unexpected, that Helen blanched and sank into the chair before she could hide her reaction.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she tried to claim.
“Don’t you?”
“You accuse me of being a thief. You accuse me of being a harlot. What next? Armed robbery? Premeditated murder?”
“So you deny the relationship?”
“Yes, I do.”
As if Helen hadn’t rebuffed the charge, Seymour kept on, apparently possessed of many secrets to which Helen wasn’t privy.
“You need to learn a few details about your precious captain.”
“I won’t listen to any gossip, and you have an incredible amount of gall to denigrate him when he’s not here to defend himself.”
“I’m not disparaging him. He personally provided this information to me when he first came to stay. There wasn’t much I could do about it, so I felt forced to agree.”
Seymour ran
g a bell, and a rear door opened. The maid Lydia entered.
“You’ve met Lydia, haven’t you?” Seymour inquired. “She tended your rooms.”
“Yes, I know Lydia.”
Seymour gestured to the sullen, buxom girl, and as she approached the desk, Helen’s panic flared.
Lydia was attired in a new dress, one that had to have cost much more than a servant could ever afford. Her hair was styled in a flattering fashion, and she’d applied a rosy cosmetic to her cheeks and lips.
In the fetching gown, and with her face and hair arranged, she was downright pretty.
Why had she been summoned? Had she been spying for Seymour? If so, what might she have discovered?
“I doubt you’ll believe me,” Seymour contended, “but I’m telling you this for your own good.”
“Oh, I’m sure you are. You’ve been a veritable saint in worrying about me.”
“The captain is a handsome, virile rascal who could charm any female. I don’t blame you for becoming involved with him.”
“We were not involved!” Helen insisted.
“At the moment, you’re angry with him, but eventually, he’ll return from Scotland, and when he does, he’ll try to seduce you again. He’ll ply you with money and other support, and ultimately, you’ll succumb. He’s very adept that way, so he’s hard to resist”
“You have a point to make. Please get to it”
“You must understand why you should go away and never see him again. I realize this will hurt you, but I don’t know how to reveal it without being bluntly clear.”
“What is it?” Helen sneered, exasperated beyond her limit.
Seymour gestured to Lydia again. “How are you acquainted with Captain Odell?”
Lydia stared at the floor. “I have two children by him.”
Helen gasped.
“What are their names?” Seymour asked.
“Tim and Ruth.”
“And what was the news you just shared with me?”
“I... I... may have a third on the way.”
“When were you last intimate with Captain Odell?”
“Yesterday, ma’am,” Lydia whispered so softly that Helen had to lean forward to catch the words.