Chapter Nine
Sinclair House
Berkeley Square, Mayfair
The next day
"I found the latest copy of the Ton Tattler and realized we never read the gossip after your sister's party," Sin said. "It's hard to believe we forgot. Kingsley picked up two copies for us, knowing how much I enjoy laughing over it while breaking my fast." He shook the paper and straightened it.
"I'm not sure how they manage to pull so much gossip together regularly," replied Wright. "But each day there is something truly amusing…albeit not very amusing for those featured. And occasionally, it has been my own antics." He laughed. "Looks like Louisa Parker is up to her tricks, again."
"The widow knows the editor and uses every trick in the book to elevate herself," Sin said. "I wish I could say she's harmless. But I know better."
"Well, I'm not sure she'll get away with this one. She's taking credit for your sister's successful fundraising."
"Celia may prickle at it, but she'll likely use it to gain more donations for the charities," Sin said with a shrug. "As long as Lizzie's name isn't splashed across the page, I'm satisfied. I should have paid closer attention to my actions—but the truth of it is, I couldn't resist spending time with her." Lizzie needed to be protected from these social predators in London. She would be vulnerable to their maneuverings. He couldn't bear to have her name splashed across the gossip sheets.
"What are your plans for Simon and Josie?" Wright asked, forking the last of the rashers onto his plate before taking his seat at the table.
"Believe it or not, the boy has already amassed a following in the household. Fringe wants him in the stables, and Mrs. Jones and the cook feel there are many things he'd be good at around the townhouse."
"And to think, only yesterday, his home was a pile of discarded wood scraps behind Gunter's," Wright said.
"Indeed. I've arranged for Fringe to mentor Simon in the stables for the day, assessing where his strengths lie. Meanwhile, Mrs. Jones is organizing suitable attire and footwear for the lad, and she's also preparing a cozy bed for Josie. That little pup has managed to capture the hearts of everyone in my household."
"I remember the dog you had when you were a young lad," Wright said after sipping his coffee. "Wasn't her name Rosie?"
Sin laughed. "Yes. She was a light-brown hound mix with white feet. My parents forbade the dog from sleeping in the house, but each night she found her way to my bedroom and would be there in the morning. Since my parents rarely came to my room, they never realized. I loved that dog."
A quick knock preceded the butler's entrance. "My lord, you've received a dispatch. The messenger asked that you receive it as quickly as possible."
"Thank you, Kingsley." Sin picked the sealed missive from the salver and opened it with his butter knife. He scanned the contents of the note and blew out a breath. "Kingsley, would you ask Reginald to prepare my satchel? We may be leaving shortly."
"Yes, my lord." The retainer gave a slight bow and left the room.
"What is it?" Wright asked.
"From Wellington," Sin stated solemnly, glancing down at the letter gripped tightly in his hand, its contents encrypted. "One of Wellington's top agents took a bullet while intercepting a smuggling operation. Our task now is to rendezvous and pick up where he left off. The agent was on the brink of unveiling the mastermind behind it all before the gunshot rang out."
Wright's expression tightened with worry. "Do we have any leads on the operation's whereabouts?"
"Isle of Wight," Sin replied, his voice tinged with determination.
"I'll get word to my ship. It's in the port, here in London," Wright offered, already moving toward the door. "We can get there quicker than if we take our horses."
"I have a few things to tie up before I'll be ready to leave," Sin said, his mind already racing through the tasks ahead. "What do you say we meet up here around two o'clock? That should give me time to get things done."
Sin rang for Kingsley. The door opened and the retainer appeared as if he'd expected to be called. "Yes, my lord?"
"Have Mrs. Jones, Fringe, and young Simon meet me in the kitchen."
"Right away." The butler started to leave but turned back. "Er…my lord. Do you anticipate being gone for long?"
Sin's brows knitted together in thought. "I'm not sure."
Kingsley was a trusted retainer and watched over Sin's home with an eagle eye. Sin never worried that any matters would be mishandled while he was away. "Usually, these trips take a couple of weeks. I'm hoping it won't take that long. I haven't asked her yet, but knowing my aunt and the way she loves children, I feel sure she will want to participate in Simon's needs. And Mrs. Pritchett has offered to tutor him."
"What time will he go to Lady Beadle's house for tutoring?" Kingsley asked.
"Whatever schedule you and Mrs. Jones work out with my aunt. It's important that Simon feels he is contributing to his and his puppy's upkeep. But as you know, make it something worthwhile that will teach him skills of value. I'm leaving it for you to decide. You know how to reach me if anything comes up. I've replenished the household funds—in case I'm gone longer."
"Yes, my lord. Don't worry about anything here."
"I have complete confidence in you, Kingsley, as always. I will have a missive that needs to be delivered as soon as possible. It shouldn't take me long. And please ask the footman to await a response."
Ten minutes later, Sin handed a sealed sheet of vellum to his butler. "I'll be back shortly. I need to visit my aunt before I leave." His missive was a coded message for his contact at headquarters to investigate Blackwood. The man's interest in Lizzie unsettled him—it was excessive. Sin had been on the verge of interfering, feeling her in need of rescuing. Something wasn't right with the man, and Sin couldn't ignore the niggling feeling that he needed to find out more. Now he was leaving town. As brief as the trip would be, he couldn't get comfortable about leaving her this time.
*
25 Curzon Street, Mayfair
London
"When am I going to meet this rapscallion you and my nephew met at Gunter's? Hmm?" Lady Beadle said, peering over the top of the Ton Tattler . "From the little you've explained, his story is heart-wrenching. It breaks my heart that children are treated in such a manner."
"Truly, it is heartbreaking, Millie," Lizzie replied, refilling her teacup. "I'm sure Edward is getting him settled. When we encountered Simon, he was sharing a discarded sweet roll with his pup, Josie. He had no home and was hoping to stay out of the clutches of a horrid man who purchased him from his father and forced him to steal and do other reprehensible tasks for him. The child had managed to escape the brute and ended up living in a ramshackle shelter constructed from discarded crates and scraps of discarded wood behind Gunter's."
"That's quite a feat! It's discomfiting to imagine the child living in a pile of rubbish," the dowager said. "I'm so proud of my nephew—he's always had a generous nature. But what if Sin is called out of town, which could happen at any time with his work—and the lad is left alone?"
"No need to worry there. I believe Mrs. Jones has become quite taken with the boy. She and Mr. Fringe have been in a tug-of-war over where the boy will best fit in the household, each wanting him under his or her wing."
Lady Beadle laughed. "That is as it should be. No child should feel unwanted." She stayed quiet for several long moments. "I was never fortunate enough to have children of my own, as you know," she finally said. "My niece and nephew had a wonderful childhood, and I was very much a part of it, but it wasn't the same as having my own child. But…" She fell silent again, a wistful expression crossing her face. "Does it seem silly of me to want a child around this old place?" She dabbed at her eyes with her napkin. "You're as young as you feel, as they say, and having children around certainly helps one feel the joy of youth. To think, Celia is with child. It will be a joy to have a new baby around."
Lizzie watched Lady Beadle, concerned about the older woman's melancholy mood. "Millie," she began gently, "it's not silly at all. If anything, it's lovely. You have so much love to give, and having children around is indeed a joy." She reached out and touched her employer's hand in support. "But have you considered the challenges of adoption?"
"Adoption!" the dowager exclaimed. "My goodness, my dear! Ancient wigs and rouge only hide so many years. I'm talking about being a grandmother or auntie!"
Lizzie covered her mouth with her hands, hiding her laughter. "I apologize. I meant no harm. I misunderstood. I thought you were speaking of a wish to adopt a child."
Lady Beadle threw her head back and laughed. "I can understand your logic, and I know you to be a very caring person who would never hurt my feelings. But you gave me a delicious chuckle, and I thank you."
Lizzie gave in to her own laughter, and they enjoyed a good chuckle. "Simon is such a nice boy with a quick and clever mind," she said finally. "There is so much for him to learn, including how to trust and how to listen and mind his elders. Elders who are trustworthy, that is. I don't know how long he has been on his own with Josie, his puppy, as his only companion. Once Edward's household has everything sorted, I believe Simon would welcome friendly and kind attention from us."
"You make a valid suggestion, my dear Lizzie. Living in Sin's household will allow Simon to learn a great deal of value. And he has his dog, which will continue instilling responsibility in him. Finding him at Gunter's as you did—a young boy living alone on the street—sends me back to the days with the school for the deaf my darling Arthur and I built. For many of the children, it was also an orphanage. They were looked at as different and needed a place to live."
"Generosity appears to run in your family," Lizzie suggested.
"Speaking of my nephew, do you have plans to see him today?" Lady Beadle asked, taking a bite of buttered toast.
Lizzie bit her bottom lip and shook her head. "There are no plans, my lady."
Edward had mentioned he and his friend Lord Wright had some things to check into today. He planned to let his staff decide about Simon. Lizzie longed to check in on the boy, but it was improper for an unmarried woman, widow or not, to visit a bachelor's home, no matter the reason. She would wait for Edward to contact her. "He mentioned he had several matters to attend to, so I don't think so."
"You never know with that one," the viscountess said. "He needs a family to settle him down." She arched a brow.
"I've been mulling over an idea," Lizzie said. She didn't respond to Lady Beadle's comment about marriage. "What do you think about having young Simon come here and learn his lessons?"
"Could that be possible? At one time, you mentioned that you had considered looking for a governess position. Although, for many reasons, I'm glad you decided to be my companion," Lady Beadle said. "So, were you thinking you might tutor him?"
"Either that or Edward could hire a tutor."
"The idea has merit, my dear—and it would bring a child into the house. Almost like a grandson," Lady Beadle said. "We should arrange for an afternoon outing to take Simon for some new clothing."
"He has never had anyone to care about him. And he has a little brother named Bobby who is lost to him. Although I think Edward will no doubt endeavor to find the boy. It broke my heart when he asked Edward if the money he had given him would be enough to hire someone to find his brother." Lizzie bit her bottom lip to keep from tearing up at her employer's bigheartedness. "Your generosity may reduce both Simon and me to a sobbing mess, Millie," she said, biting back a smile.
"We don't want to do that. But to think of having a younger sibling subjected to the life he left behind… It would be devastating," Lady Beadle said. "If his brother is out there, I would like to help find him." She stood. "I'd like to meet this young man. Would you like to accompany me?"
One of the things Lizzie loved about Lady Beadle was her inability to conform to what others expected of her. "Yes, I would very much like to visit him with you."
"Excellent! I shall have Jenkins send word that we wish to stop by Edward's townhouse." Giving a very satisfied smile, Lady Beadle departed the dining room. The three cats had been napping near their bowls, but now picked themselves up and trotted after her.
As Athena left, she turned and gave Lizzie a haughty meow before following her mistress with her tail swishing in unveiled anger as she exited.
Did Athena understand our discussion about the dog? Lizzie sighed. I suppose she won't be watching birds from my window anymore , she thought as her fluffy duster disappeared into the hall. She laughed. If they're put out now, wait until Simon brings the puppy with him.
She would speak with Edward about her ideas. She wondered if the cats could adjust to a young puppy. The boy never left his dog, and if Lady Beadle wanted him here, the dog would be here as well. Simon was very diligent in training Josie. According to him, the dog knew commands, and best of all, she knew she needed to go out to use the bathroom. But it was in Lady Beadle and Edward's hands.
Lizzie decided to have another cup of chocolate. As she moved past the expansive window in the dining room, she stopped and peeked out the curtains. "These sheer curtains let in the sunshine," she murmured. She loved the warmth of sunshine on the really cold days.
England's recent weather hadn't been particularly warm; it was often damp and overcast. The sight of the radiant sunlight streaming in made her yearn for more days like this, especially ones spent with Edward. What she truly craved was to be riding through Hyde Park in Edward's carriage, by his side.
As she gazed out the window, Lizzie was startled to see a man casually leaning against a tree across the street—looking at Millie's townhouse. He looks familiar , she thought. But who is it? She hastily stepped away from the sheer curtains. A shudder ran down her spine as she remembered who it was.
Baron Percival Blackwood, the odious man who'd cornered her at the Armstrong ball. And those beady black eyes were looking straight at the window where she stood. She shuddered.
Lizzie had to do something. She would speak with Jenkins and ask him to dispatch a footman with a note to Edward.
*
Behind the curtain, a movement caught Blackwood's attention. Finally, there she was. He had been standing there for an hour, yearning for just a glimpse of her. As he contemplated who might be behind the fabric, his thoughts drifted to Mrs. Pritchett. Privately, Blackwood referred to her as Lizzie, relishing the way her name danced on his tongue.
Yet, despite his advances, she had rejected his courtship in favor of Sinclair. And he hated Sinclair. He took his looks, his wealth, his connections—everything—for granted. The man will never have to work for his wealth—not like I do.
Blackwood pulled a small locket from his pocket and opened it up, his eyes watering at the image of his mum. Mother, this isn't easy for me. But I'm not giving up. I did everything the way you would have wanted. I engaged her in conversation and properly asked her if I could court her. Although the woman was a widow, she'd looked like an angelic debutante at her come-out. He knew immediately she would be perfect for him—for his needs. He had done it all perfectly, just like his late mother had taught him. But without even a moment's hesitation, Lizzie had rejected him. "But that will soon change," he whispered. "Very soon indeed."