Grinning, Ginny took a biscuit from the platter and popped it in her mouth. “He has no idea what to make of my plans for Irene and Celia.”
“Lord Brockway is much too arrogant. I daresay it will be good for him.” Her mien turned serious. “But, Ginny dear, you must have a care. Teaching young girls to safeguard themselves will not be a well-received concept.” She let out a long sigh, sauntering over and lowering on the settee. “’Tis strange, isn’t it? Invariably, it’s the ones who are there to protect the”—Lorelei lifted her hands, curling her fingers to emphasize the words— “‘weaker sex’ that are sometimes the very ones we need protection from.”
“Yes,” Ginny said on a harsh breath.
“I daresay, ’tis those less confident men who feel emasculated. Talk about the weaker sex,” she muttered.
A snort of laughter escaped Ginny in the brief bit of defensive anger that hit her. “Yes, but he offered to help.”
Lorelei’s eyes sparkled with speculation. “Did he? And you accepted graciously, I take it.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Not exactly. I told him I would consider his offer. Still, I certainly have no knowledge in such things.” What would she have done when Maudsley came after her? Scream for help perhaps? Hid when he came home drunk? Followed her instincts, for sure. A sense of empowerment rippled through her. She settled deep in her chair. “You know, Lorelei? I feel as if a boulder has been lifted from my chest.”
“Mama?”
Ginny and Lorelei turned. Ginny held out her arms.“Celia. Come in, darling.”
Celia ran over.It was decidedly not ladylike. “Does he have to go, Mama?”
Irene appeared behind her, carrying a droopy-eyed bundle, her small face contorted in a stern and mirrored image of the staid Miss Lambert’s. “Of course he does, Celia. Babies need their rest. He is a small child.” Corinne and Peg, Nathan’s nursemaid, hovered in the doorway in the event that Irene lost hold of the baby. Something that Irene would never countenance.
“And what does that make you, my dear?” Ginny asked her too-serious daughter of nine, smothering her laughter.
Lorelei rose and gathered her belongings. “We must take our leave.” She kissed Ginny on the cheek. “Thank you for tea, darling. I shall see you on Friday.”
“Lady Maudsley, Lord Griston to see you,” Kipling said.
“Please show him into the library, Kipling. Offer him tea. I have something to take care of momentarily.”
Four
G
inny invited the girls back to the morning room. She went to the settee and patted the seat. There was no time like the present. “Come here. Both of you. I have something I wish to discuss with you.”
Celia plopped on the seat. She wore a small locket around her neck that bounced against her chest. The ever etiquette-conscious Irene lowered herself primly, smoothing a hand over her muslin ivory skirts. She folded her hands demurely in her lap while Celia nursed her thumb in her mouth. “We’re ready, Mama.”
Now that Ginny had their undivided attention, every idea in her head eroded, leaving a blank slate. She studied them for a long moment, then leaning forward, gently tugged at Celia’s thumb. The distinct pop made her smile. Celia’s tiny hand in hers stiffened Ginny’s resolve. “Where do I start?” she breathed.
Celia giggled. “The start, Mama.”
She nodded. “Yes, the start. We’ll begin there. What do you remember of my injury last year?”
“Lord Brockway took us to Lord Kimpton,” Celia said, “because Papa hurted you.”
Irene flinched, her hands squeezing into white-knuckled fists. Ginny swallowed the temptation to put off this first heart-breaking lesson. Of course Brock would have a much easier time of it.If he followed through.
In her memory, he had not been so dependable. Well, that wasn’t fair. He’d found her girls after Maudsley had beat her to within an inch of her life. Nursed her back to health and protected her reputation. Actually, he’d shown true heroic qualities. But that didn’t mean he mightn’t walk out again. One broken heart per lifetime was her limit.
To protect her girls, Ginny had tried desperately to absorb Maudsley’s reign of terror by keeping his attentions on herself. That left much of Celia’s care to Irene and their nursemaid, a young woman of ten and six Maudsley had seduced and abused abominably.
Ginny tried another of the deep inhaling techniques. This talk would be one of the most important of her career as a mother. “Maudsley hurt many people and… well, I had no way to defend myself.” She took up Irene’s hand with her free hand. “I would like the three of us to embark upon a journey.”
“What sort of journey?” Irene was not the most trusting of souls.
Ginny told herself that was a good thing for this situation. “It is my most fervent wish for you girls to be able to take care of yourselves.”
Celia’s bottom lip poked out in confusion. “I don’t understand, Mama.” Then firmed in alarm. “Are you leaving us? Where are you going? Who are we to live with?” Each statement rose like a vocal exercise of ascending notes on the pianoforte in a shrill panic.
