Perhaps it is not so much that I am eager to know her, but that I am anxious for someone else to know me.
Whatever his intentions, and whether they were good or bad, all he knew for certain was that he couldn’t wait to see her again.
He remembered her saying that she spent a large part of each day at the orphanage. When she had said it, there had been an expression on her face that implied more. Something in him seemed to understand that it was an invitation.
You may have imagined that.
Regardless, he had legitimate business at the orphanage. Even if, when he arrived, she was not there, he still needed to speak to Mister Bradley and give his contribution to the foundation.
He hurried through breakfast, hardly glancing at the newspaper. A very short account of the charity ball was written. Only a few lines detailing the more prestigious guests. Jeffrey was mentioned nowhere, for which he was grateful.
As his carriage rolled through the town toward the old church building that was now the orphanage, Jeffrey couldn’t get the image of a moth being drawn to a flame out of his mind. He hardly knew the lady, and yet he felt drawn to her as by a thread.
But what is so special about her, anyway?
A spinster with unusual hobbies, spoiled by her father, with large eyes set slightly too far apart above a pert nose that could easily give an appearance of haughtiness. That was all she really was. He couldn’t help but wonder if his standards were so low that he could have his attention so enraptured by a lady simply because she did not display obvious disgust at the sight of him.
His reservations about this did almost nothing to deter him as he climbed the steps of the orphanage. The name that hung above the door, which had meant hardly anything to him when he had passed this building before, now monopolized his attention.
Cluett. Barbara Cluett. Lady Barbara Cluett.
It gave him a bit of amusement to know now that the name referred to the precocious daughter and not, as many had assumed, to the Duke.
He pulled on the doorbell and waited. His heart pounded as though he thought that she herself would answer the door. Though he knew that was ridiculous.
The door swung open to reveal a young woman, perhaps Lady Barbara’s own age, wearing a uniform and a slightly harried look about her.
Jeffrey stammered. He couldn’t exactly just ask if Lady Barbara was there. Didn’t he have business he was attending to?
Oh. Right.
“Captain Pemberton for Mister Bradley, please.”
“Yes, Sir. Please come in,” she said with a deferential nod of her head.
Jeffrey stepped inside the large room which had once been the sanctuary of the church.
“I’ll just go and announce you. If you don’t mind waiting here for just a moment, Sir.” The woman’s eyes lingered on the ravaged side of his face, hardly meeting his eyes. She was polite, as most people were, but he was all too aware of the shock that the sight of him gave to her.
She hurried off to announce him and Jeffrey slid his overcoat off of his shoulders, hanging it on a coat rack that stood just beside the door. He kept his hat on. Although it could be considered impolite, he knew that wearing the hat, with the brim turned slightly down over his right side, casted a shadow over his scars and made them less noticeable. Most people preferred this to the technical correctness of removing his hat indoors.
It seemed that the children were outside behind the building. He could hear voices and shouts, but they were muffled. Unconsciously, he strained his ears for the sound of Lady Barbara’s voice among the distant murmurs.
“Right this way, Captain Pemberton.” The woman had reappeared.
He followed her to Mister Bradley’s office. The room was nearly too large for its purpose, and the little kitchen area at the back gave away its previous life. Jeffrey wondered if Lady Barbara herself had been behind the renovation of the church building. It seemed her style of ingenuity.
“Good Morning, Captain Pemberton. How nice it is to see you again.” Mister Bradley stood behind his desk and gestured generously to the upholstered chair opposite.
“Good morning. You must be busy this morning,” Jeffrey said as he sat down and glanced at the tempest of papers over the man’s desk.
Mister Bradley laughed as he sat down as well. “I can’t complain.”
“I’ve come to make my contribution in person.” Jeffrey said, reaching into his waistcoat pocket for his banknotes. “It would have been impolite to ask at the ball, but as we are both men of business, I can ask you now forthrightly: how much is needed to keep the orphanage afloat?”
Mister Bradley stammered a bit, but after some assuaging he laid out the numbers.
Jeffrey rifled through the banknotes and slid a bundle of them across the desk.
“I’ll double that.”
“Captain Pemberton…” Mister Bradley’s face reddened at the sight of the notes.
“I insist.” Jeffrey rose to his feet. “I’d like to see the children, if I may.”
Mister Bradley bumbled to his feet and seemed to struggle to find words as he led Jeffrey out of the room and toward the back of the old church.
The garden behind the orphanage was mostly lawn. Flower beds were sparse and nestled tightly against the building but thriving rows of vegetables dominated the back. The sun was warmer now as the morning grew long, and a pile of coats and doffed shawls was mounting near the back door. Children ranging in age from toddling babes to young adults who looked as though they would be striking out on their own within the next couple of years criss-crossed across the grass. Tight knots of friends formed here and there entertained themselves, but there was a cohesion among all of them. It seemed more like an extended family than a rag-tag bunch of orphans.
His eyes immediately lighted upon Lady Barbara. She was seated in the grass, her skirts sprawled around her, as she read aloud from a book. There was a young child on her lap, his thumb in his mouth and his enormous brown eyes gazing adoringly up at her.
Jeffrey did not approach her right out. He hovered near the door, watching her and catching strains of her melodic voice as she read poems aloud. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door jamb.
If it was possible, she looked even more attractive in her everyday clothing. The hem of her dress was gray and slightly green with grass stains, and she wore mesh mitts that left her fingertips tantalizingly bare. Her mass of curls was barely contained in the sweeping knot at the base of her neck, and several tendrils floated about her calm face in the breeze.
He watched as one of the older children, a girl who looked to be about twelve, approached Lady Barbara and whispered in her ear.
Then, Lady Barbara looked up at him. Their eyes locked from across the lawn and Jeffrey felt a shiver of anticipation run through him.
She smiled.
A genuine smile. A happy, natural smile.
He couldn’t remember a time when someone, especially a lady, had reacted thus to the sight of him.
She made her excuses to the toddler in her lap and handed the book to the older girl as she stood up. She brushed her skirts of the bits of grass that clung to it and approached him.
“Captain Pemberton,” she greeted. “What a surprise.”
“Is it?” he asked.
She chuckled. “You know, you’re the only one so far who has come to make good on their promises last night. Assuming that’s why you’ve come. We are most grateful to you, Sir.”
“I’m sure the others are just having a slow morning. Recovering from over-imbibing the champagne.” He touched the side of his nose conspiratorially.
Lady Barbara laughed, a gentle, bell-like tinkling sound that seemed to waft on the early spring breeze.
Calm down, you fool.
And yet, everything felt so easy with her. As much as his heart had raced at the thought of seeing her again, now that he was with her, he felt perfectly at ease.
“You know, you’re probably right. I am trying not to worry
about it. If we don’t raise enough money, I will just have to hold a second ball and really lay on the guilt. Won’t you please come and sit down?”
He led her to a bench that wobbled as they sat down. It was weathered and had clearly fallen victim to the boisterous play of many children over the years. Lady Barbara did not seem to notice.
“I actually hesitated in coming. I was afraid of frightening the children,” he said, pulling his hat down lower across his eyes.
“Oh, children are much more resilient than that. They may ask some impertinent questions, but I hardly think they’ll be frightened by your appearance. You think too much of it.”
Jeffrey scoffed. With those six words she had written off his lifelong angst and trauma, as lightly as though he were merely worrying over a minor inconvenience.
She turned her body so that she was facing him more directly and tilted her head sideways to try and see his face clearer.
“I can hardly see you,” she said, glancing at his hat.
“That’s the idea.”
She sighed and it appeared that she had given up her quest to get him to reveal the full range of his disfigurement in the unforgiving light of the morning.
“So, Captain. Before we were interrupted last night, you were about to regale me with tales of your travels. But why are you not out on the high seas now?”
Jeffrey relaxed with the change in conversation. “I’m taking the spring to recover from an illness. I became deathly ill on my last voyage and was sent home to recuperate. Of course, now I’m on dry land, I feel just fine. I’m strictly on leave through the spring, though.”
“Ooh,” Lady Barbara grimaced with an exaggerated shiver. “I was ill with sea-sickness the last time we crossed to France. I can’t imagine feeling like that on the high seas with no land in sight.”
“It can be rather grim,” he agreed.
Jeffrey found that, while he didn’t normally consider his travels to be of much extraordinary interest, the lady’s rapt attention goaded him on. He spent the next hour and a half talking nearly nonstop, at her prodding, about his expedition to the Caribbean seas.
After a time, Lady Barbara was called away. It was time for lunch, and the rush to get all of the children fed was in full sway in a matter of minutes.
“I should be going now,” he said, reluctantly, as Lady Barbara piled her arms full of plates. “I’ll…get out of your way.”
“Please do visit again, Captain. Next time, you can share your stories with the children. I’m certain that they would love it.”
“As you wish, My Lady,” he said with a bow.
Chapter 12
When Barbara walked home after seeing the Captain at the orphanage, she had the oddest feeling. It was as if she were not in control of her thoughts. They ricocheted around her mind, dashing from the color of his eyes to the feeling of the early spring sun on her face to worries about money to thinking about her stained hem.
I really should have new dresses made. It’s unbecoming of a lady to wear dresses like this where people might see her.
Truth was, the orphanage had always felt like a home away from home for her. She had never worried before that a gentleman may show up and be unimpressed by the way she looked. It had never mattered before.
It still doesn’t matter.
She tried to convince herself that she didn’t care if the Captain thought she was pretty. But, strangely, she couldn’t stop worrying about it. No matter how she told herself that she was being foolish.
When she arrived home, her father asked her at once how the donations were coming. He was sitting in the parlor at the back of the house which caught the afternoon sun. Barbara was well aware of his routines. He was like a cat, in some ways, always following the sun.
“Not as well as I’d hoped. It seems that people were more free with their money when it was safe at home. Though, Captain Pemberton says that they could just be having a slow morning.”
“Captain Pemberton?” her father said, folding his newspaper down to peer at her over the spectacles perched on the tip of his nose.
“Yes, he came to the orphanage. He, at least, made good on his promise to give some.”
The Duke’s eyes narrowed. “He seems to have taken an interest in you.”
“In me?” Barbara asked innocently. “Rather, I think he’s taken an interest in the orphanage. For which I am grateful, indeed.”
She sat down across the small table in front of the window. The window was open slightly to catch the breeze, and the lace curtains billowed gently. As she sat, she caught sight of the hem of her dress again and frowned.
“The two of you caused a bit of a stir when you danced the waltz together,” her father continued.
“Did we? I hadn’t noticed. Well, lots of people danced the waltz, Papa.”
The Duke chuckled softly, flipping his newspaper up again.
“If you wish to put a stop to this line of questioning, you can simply say so.”
Barbara drummed her fingers on the tablecloth. She never quite knew what to do with herself when she got home from the orphanage in the afternoon.
“Father, I’d like some new dresses.”
“Oh?” he asked. “That’s unlike you.” He didn’t look up from his paper and his answer seemed rather distant. He was only half-listening now.
“Not ball gowns. I just would like to replace some of my everyday frocks. My love of walking is taking its toll on the hems.”
“Who are you dressing up for?” he asked, this time looking up to raise his bushy brows at her.
Barbara scoffed. “No one, Papa. But doesn’t it shame you for your daughter to be seen in old dresses?”
The Duke laughed. “I’m only teasing you, pet. Of course, you may have new dresses. Take Rosie with you and you can go today, if you like.”
Barbara jumped up and kissed her father on the forehead, thanking him as he pulled a purse of coins out of his pocket.
The ride to the dressmaker’s was a pleasant one, and the diversion of it helped to clear her mind of the enigmatic Captain.
At least, her mind was cleared of him until the following morning when she returned to the orphanage. Some part of her almost expected to find him there waiting for her. She stifled the disappointment she felt when he was not.
“Mister Bradley?” she said, knocking gently on the door frame to his office.
“Ah, Lady Barbara. I meant to catch you before you left yesterday. I have news about the financial situation.”
Barbara’s heart thudded with fear. It would not be easy to repeat the feat that had been the charity ball. If they did not raise enough money, she would have to really set her mind to thinking of a better idea. She sat down across the desk from him, folding her hands resolutely in her lap.
“Yesterday, before going out to see the children in the garden, Captain Pemberton himself doubled the goal we had set,” he said, excitedly.
“I…don’t understand. Doubled?”
“He gave the orphanage twice as much as we needed, by himself. Any other funds we receive will be on top of that. We have more funds than we need. Much more.”
“But that’s…” Barbara’s mind had gone blank with shock. All she could think of was how casually he had sat and spoken with her about her fears that they would not raise enough money, all the time knowing that he had seen to it himself only moments before.
“Of course, I told him we could not accept such a large gift, but he insisted. What do you want me to do with this?” he asked.
“I…” Barbara stammered. “I hardly know. I will go and speak to him about it. Have you his address? I can go at once.”
Mister Bradley rummaged through the invitation responses until he found the paper with Captain Pemberton’s address, and he slid it across the table to her.
“Thank you,” Barbara said, her voice distant.
Captain Pemberton’s home was on the other side of town. As Barbara had walked to the orphanage, she was obliged
to take the orphanage’s carriage to his home. As she sat in the little carriage, she was taken aback by the shabbiness of its interior. As she rode to Captain Pemberton’s home, she imagined what it would be like to be a small child, newly orphaned, being taken to the orphanage inside this very carriage. How dark it was, with its worn upholstery. Why, they must be terrified by the time they arrived at the building.
Captain Pemberton’s donation could easily cover a new carriage. A nicer one, larger and more inviting.
A Seductive Lady For The Scarred Earl (Steamy Regency Romance) Page 8