“Yeeou,”she sneered at him.
Well, she had gumption, which was something he’d certainly enjoy.
“Now, Miss Doyle, would you please answer my question. Why are you in London?”
“We lost everythin’ in Ireland.”
In other words, he brother probably gambled it all away and fled across the ocean to save his neck. “How?”
Her eyes began to water and Henry tried to will the tears not to fall. The last thing he wanted or needed was a watering pot for a ward. However, to his surprise, Miss Doyle blinked quickly then wiped the corner with the back of her sleeve. Without a word, Henry pulled his handkerchief from his pocket. “For things that leak on the face.” He waved it in front of her. “Use this andnotyour sleeve.”
Eve snatched it from his fingers and wiped the other eye. “Thank ye.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to correct her speech, but bit back the words. If he spent the entire morning correcting each incorrectly spoken syllable, they’d be standing here until nightfall and his time would not be squandered.
“As in everything, what did your brother loose?”
“The estate, stable, horses,” she sighed. “Then he went and gambled the one thin’ I had left.”
Besides her person, Henry assumed it was that blasted necklace. We’ll if she sold it, to a reputable jewelry, Miss Doyle could be quite set, if she lived frugally, until her dowry became hers. However, Henry wasn’t about to let her walk out his door with that necklace. At least not until he learned more.
“Did you say stables,” Pickmore asked in surprise. “Doyle stud farm.TheDoyle stud farm that has some of the finest racers from Ireland.”
“Had,” Miss Doyle corrected. “After Da died, Brendan took to wagerin’ and losin’.”
“What is wrong with betting on your own horse?” Pickmore asked.
“Ye do not make money from wagers. Ye make it from the purses and stud fees. Da would always place a small bet but never enough ta do any harm.”
“However, your brother wasn’t so cautious,” Pickmore guessed, empathy laced in his tone.
“Before we knew it, Brendan had lost horses, then the land. He thought to build the coffers with bets instead of lettin’ them grow all steady like. Instead, he drained them.” Miss Doyle wiped her eyes again. “With what he had left, we came here. He didn’t understand, or appreciate, the work required to manage a successful stable. He didn’t want ta do the work either. Nor does he now.”
Money quickly won at a table, or at the races, was often lost just as quickly in the same manner. It was no wonder that Miss Doyle was now nearly destitute. The father would have done better to leave the lot of his estate to his daughter. Not that it would have been allowed, of course.
“And your sister was able to find a position at a girls’ school.”
Miss Doyle nodded.
“Why not you?”
“I was to watch over Brendan, for what good it done me.”
“Ahhh.” Henry grinned. “I hear a little bit of Covent Garden in your speech as well.”
“It’s where I’ve been livin’.”
“What of your education?” For all of her father’s worth and the dowry originally left, Henry had a difficult time believing she wasn’t educated, yet her speech indicated she’d never spent time with any reputable instructor.
“Me sister and I had a governess and learned what we needed and more,” she answered proudly.
“An Irish governess?”
“English.”
That was even harder to believe. But, as he intended to have her fully investigated, Henry would soon have all of his answers.
“You are my ward, Miss Doyle, which now makes you my responsibility,” Henry offered kindly. “What do you propose that I do with you? What do you suppose will become of you at the end of my guardianship?” He frowned. “Exactly how long before you turn three and twenty?”
