“No’ unless you brought one in yer trunk.”
Mistress Gallagher laughed, her blue eyes twinkling. “Scotland is such a strange land. I don’t know much about it.”
“It’s no’ so strange. You would grow to like it weel enough if you lived here.”
Her merriment fled and a small crease appeared between her brows before she directed her gaze straight ahead. “I didn’t mean to sound patronizing. I simply meant—”
Miss Gracie bolted from the seat. “Let’s have a look around.” Fergus juggled the reins as she scrambled over him, kneeing him in the stomach.
“Oof!”
“Gracie!” Mistress Gallagher reached for her charge, but the lassie was too quick. Her boots landed in the snow with a muffled thud. Fergus drew in a wheezing breath.
Mistress Gallagher froze, perhaps realizing she was draped across his lap. Her warm body in such close proximity elicited an ache in his lower belly that had nothing to do with the blow to his midsection.
“Come on,” Miss Gracie called to them. “Let’s roll down the hill.” The lassie dropped to the snow and started down the hill before either he or Mistress Gallagher could react.
“Wait!” Mistress Gallagher nearly fell when she clambered from her side of the sleigh.
“She’ll be fine,” Fergus said as the lassie built up speed and her legs and arms flung about wildly. Her screeching laughter carried on the air.
Mistress Gallagher stopped at the place where Miss Gracie began her descent. “How do you know she’ll be fine? What if she knocks her head on a rock, or worse? I promised Lavinia I would watch out for her.”
Fergus secured the reins and climbed from the sleigh to place his arm around her shoulders when she slipped on the snow. She inhaled sharply, but didn’t pull away even after she regained her balance.
“Yer a good watcher, lass,” he said. “Your friend Lavinia will have nothing but praise for you.”
Miss Gracie reached the bottom of the slope and flopped on her back. The lassie giggled and yelled out. “That was fun. I want to do it again.”
Mistress Gallagher looked up at him; the worry lines on her forehead disappeared. “She wasn’t hurt.”
“No’ unless all that giggling gives her a bellyache. Many a McTaggart has taken a roll down the hills, and everyone has lived to roll another day.”
Mistress Gallagher’s chuckle was airy. “You probably think I’m a ninny-hammer for worrying so much, but I owe Lavinia my life. I could not live with myself if I disappointed her.”
“You feel you owe her for taking you when she left the brothel.” He didn’t release her as he moved to take Molly’s bridle before the mare decided to bolt and leave them stranded. Miss Gracie remained at the bottom of the hill on her back, swinging her legs and arms to make arches in the snow.
Mistress Gallagher leaned against him as if seeking warmth. “I do owe her for convincing Lord St. Ambrose to allow me to live with her when he set her up in Chelsea, but she saved me long before the marquess became her benefactor.”
Fergus held his tongue. Having been guilty in the past of saying the wrong words to her at the wrong moment, he didn’t want to risk speaking. She was confiding in him, and he wouldn’t give her cause to second guess her decision.
“Lavinia found me in the alley behind Madam Montgomery’s. I was sick with a fever and had gone several days without a meal. I no longer felt the hunger. Lavinia spotted me from her chamber window that morning. She asked Madam Montgomery to come to my assistance, but the woman advised her to forget about me. The madam said it wouldn’t be long before I would know everlasting peace.”
His gut tightened in anger. Ignoring another person’s suffering was the definition of evil.
Mistress Gallagher smiled ruefully. “Lavinia didn’t forget about me, however. She is not one to be ordered about. Still, it was early afternoon before she defied Madam Montgomery and brought me inside. Lavinia was new to the brothel and indebted to the madam. She risked her livelihood to help me.”
In London, Helena—Lady Thorne—had risked her own livelihood to find her younger sisters. Her family had been living in poverty when Helena was taken from her home. Creating better lives for her kin had outweighed any concern for herself. It seemed her sister Lavinia shared Helena’s bravery and selflessness.
“I was too weak to put up a fuss about entering a whorehouse,” Mistress Gallagher said. “Even if I could have argued, I don’t know if I would have. I had a roof over my head and a place to sleep. My first week at the brothel, Lavinia spooned broth into my mouth and cared for me as if we were family. When Madam Montgomery found me in Lavinia’s chambers, she ranted and threatened to toss us both out with the rubbish, but she’d invested too much in Lavinia. Madam Montgomery loves nothing more than money, and she wanted a return on her investment.”
Fergus growled. “Women like her are a menace to society. Taking advantage of young women down on their luck is deplorable.”
“Yes, I suppose they are no angels of mercy, but I cannot fault Madam Montgomery for escaping her own unfortunate circumstances by becoming a madam.” Mistress Gallagher rested her head against his shoulder. “The woman has lived a hard life, and as it turned out, she had a heart after all. She had a bed made for me in the kitchen pantry so I could benefit from the warmth of the kitchen hearth. She said as long as I remained out of sight and promised to earn my keep when I was better, I could stay.”
“Earn your keephow?” He spoke through clenched teeth, imagining her trying to fend off unwanted attentions.
“Not inthatway. Madam Montgomery’s girls are touted as the most beautiful in London. I was never a candidate to become one of Madam Montgomery’s girls.”
