Liverpool frowned. “That is highly unusual.”
“As are mine and Ryleigh’s wives,” James said. He glanced at Ryleigh, but his expression remained as unreadable as ever. James pressed on. “It is their wish to assist young women who are in trouble with nowhere else to turn.”
“Why on earth would they do that?”
“Lord Liverpool, Surely, I mustn’t have to explain such reasonings to you. ’Tis widely known how active your own wife is in her own philanthropic endeavors.”
“Yes, but she doesn’t consort with… with them.”
“Them, being the lower classes? How forward thinking of you." Ryleigh spoke in that mild tone Huntley was learning did not bode well for those on the receiving end.
The exchange was a remarkable one to witness. The prime minister was only an earl. Ryleigh outranked him in the King’s eye.
James hid a smile. “You yourself have been looking for Miss Darby. Our wives just took it a step further. If they had not, sir. I needn’t tell you that your granddaughter might be dead but for their help.” His bluntness had the prime minister’s color dissipating once more.
Ryleigh smiled. “Excellent point, Huntley.”
James went on. “I have more good news for you, my lord.”
“Good news?” Liverpool’s voice fairly cracked under the pressure.
James smiled broadly then. “You’re soon to be a great grandfather.”
Forty-One
“All right, my lady. Patience would go far, you know.” Gabby attached the lead to Lady Macbeth—who refused to be daunted—and led her through the kitchens, past the workman tending to a portion where the floor was crumbling, and out into the garden. The damp morning air was chilling. The little queen dragged Gabby from bush to bush in no hurry to return inside.
She rubbed her arms and heard reins jangle in the thick atmosphere. A coachman called out a halt that sounded remarkably nearby, and she guided her prancing dog around to the front of Hope House.
“Ah, Lady Huntley.” Lady Bentick emerged from the carriage followed by none other than Lady Liverpool.
Stunned, Gabby snapped her mouth shut. Lady Macbeth, however, let out a low growl. “Shh,” she admonished her. “These are dignified guests, my lady. Lady Bentick? Lady Liverpool? Whatever are you doing here?”
Lady Liverpool answered. “We heard of the good works you are doing and decided to come by to offer our services. This weather is atrocious, perhaps you would be so good to offer us tea?”
“Oh, yes, of course. Please, come in. I was just letting Lady Macbeth out for a moment of relief.”
“Lady Macbeth?” Lady Liverpool said faintly.
“My dog.” Gabby scooped her up. “She’s quite special. Not deranged or murderous in the least.”
“That is an outrageous name for a… a pet,” Lady Bentick choked out. She stared at Lady Macbeth and frowned. “I don’t believe I recognize the breed.”
“I’m not surprised. Neither did I. I found her starving and shivering in the mews behind the gardens at Huntley. She is quite devoted. Come along.” She went to the portico and tried the door, but it was locked. She used the knocker and Mr. Keir was there in an instant. “Please let Mrs. Keir know we have guests and to send tea, Mr. Keir. This way,” she said to the ladies. “I’ll see you to the drawing room and then relinquish Lady Macbeth to my maid.”
A few minutes later, Gabby dashed up the stairs. She knocked on Vella’s then Mabel’s doors. “Ladies Bentick and Liverpool are here for tea.” She thrust Lady Macbeth into Vella’s arms. “Take her to my room and lock her in. For some reason, she does not care for our distinguished guests.” She stopped and gave the queen a peck on her cold nose. “She is obviously much more intelligent that I’d first realized.” She looked up into Vella’s widened eyes. “Also, be prepared to be summoned. Tell the others. Our guests might wish to meet you.”
“Lady Bentick!” Vella said appalled.
“Yes. Yes. I know she is a frightful snob but think of the good we can do with Lady Liverpool and, yes, those such as the baroness in our corner.” She ran back down the stairs, pulling up before the drawing room door. She inhaled a deep breath, then entered. After all, Lady Liverpool was a countess, just like she, and Lady Bentick, well, Rose had accused Gabby of being too high in the instep, but Lady Bentick could comport a course on the behavior.
She glided over and took a seat on the settee. “I’m thrilled to see you both. Of course, your works with the poor and infirm are legendary, my lady,” she said to Lady Liverpool. Gabby was disheartened to see her as pale as she was a few nights ago when they’d dined together. “I have long been an admirer.”
Lady Liverpool gave a weak smile. “I shall tell you what I told my sister before. How can I not assist those who are sick and destitute and suffering, whilst I am surrounded with comforts far beyond my desserts?”
Those exact sentiments mirrored Gabby’s own.
Lines of tension bracketed Lady Bentick’s mouth, though she was quick to agree. “We are most fortunate than these ladies of questionable nature you have deigned to assist, Lady Huntley.”
