Yet, it was a silly one, for even if she could find such a position, it was far too risky to put herself at the mercy of her employers in such a distant land. If they dismissed her or if they proved to be poor employers, Judith would be stranded in a foreign land. It was a pleasant daydream but far too impractical to consider.
Having spent much of the past month pondering such possibilities, Judith knew she had no answer at present. The only course was to reach out to her contacts and see if they knew of any possibilities. Time would sort out the rest.
And so, Judith rambled on to Aunt Lavinia, hoping the words would be of some interest, though she could hardly focus on them herself. With a final flourish, she finished the letter and folded it up with a quick seal. Then she began a series of inquiries to her usual sources for employment.
A knock sounded at her door, and Judith called for them to enter. A maid entered with a bob, extending forth a letter.
“Thank you, Maria,” she said, taking it before the maid scurried off to her other work.
Turning the missive over, Judith examined the handwriting but didn’t recognize the distinctly masculine hand. Breaking the seal, she was startled to see Mr. Martin Hardwicke’s signature at the bottom of the sheet. Judith stared at his name. Chloe had often sent his love or some quick message on his behalf but never had he written her directly.
Her eyes flew to the top and rushed through the letter.
Dear Miss Delmonte,
I received the condolences, and your offer of assistance touched me deeply. Though many have expressed similar wishes to aid my family in our time of need, yours is one of the few I know to be genuine. Perhaps it is too much of me to ask, but I fear I do not know who else will be my salvation.
I am at my wit’s end. It is difficult enough to struggle with the loss of my dear Chloe, but the household is in an uproar. The children mourn their mama, and I cannot bear my own grief, let alone theirs. To add to the hardships, our governess left us a few months ago. Chloe had intended to find someone after…
Martin’s handwriting had grown more frantic and sharp as the letter went on, but now, it devolved into a splattered mess. Touching a finger to the tear stains, Judith’s eyes misted over; she could well imagine him sitting at his desk, fighting through the grief that held him captive. The paragraph broke, and Judith was certain he’d taken a moment before continuing, for the writing was far more polished and legible.
But I know Chloe wrote to you all about it, so there is no need to repeat myself here. Miss Delmonte, please. I am in dire need. I haven’t the slightest idea how to manage everything, and though my mother-in-law is quite generous with her assistance, I fear she is adding to the household’s distress
Judith huffed at that. Though Martin was being politic in his description of the situation, she could well imagine Aunt Lavinia descending upon Helmsford Place like a grand general, taking everything in hand in a manner that was more apt to suffocate than soothe.
I throw myself on your mercy. Please come and help me set my house to rights. I am certain you can have it in hand in a trice. Please come and help me, Miss Delmonte. My children and I need you.
Your desperate friend,
Martin Hardwicke
Judith stared at the letter, rereading it three more times before she allowed herself to fully consider its meaning. Martin needed her. Desperately, if his letter was to be believed, and though it had been some time since their days as childhood friends, Judith knew he hadn’t changed so greatly. If he was begging her for assistance, things were truly desperate at home.
Having spent the last several months caring for children who’d lost a mother, Judith knew all too well how distraught they must be. To say nothing of their poor papa.
However, the travel costs would not be a small thing. And then, there was the issue of her position with the Byrnes. The children were finally acclimated to life at Stowell Cottage. Though Helen was still melancholy at times, they were thriving, and to abandon them now might cause distress.
But what of the Hardwicke children?
Pressing a hand to her stomach, Judith stared at the letter and the blank pieces of paper beside it. Her breath caught as she considered the choices before her, but it felt as though no matter the decision, she was bound to hurt someone.
***
Though far too distant on the horizon, Silas raised a hand to shield his eyes and cast his gaze towards theMercuryas it sailed from port. Perched on the phaeton seat, he stared at the white dot that was its sails and grinned at it. Just as Hatch had predicted, the ship had arrived, its cargo intact, and in the ensuing month had already made several runs to the Continent before returning to the Orient for a shipment of silk. Silas’s heart lightened at the sight of it sailing forth to further the interests of Byrnes & Co.
The horses pawed at the ground, their tails flicking as though their absent-minded driver were a particularly annoying fly, and Silas used the reins to usher them forward. With a fair bit of practice, Silas no longer strangled the reins as he navigated the busy docks, but he still kept his attention fixed on the work at hand. Some gentleman had such an ease with the horses, handling them with little thought, and he only hoped to one day master driving to such a level. For now, he limited his time in crowds.
A firm hold but not too tight. It was difficult to strike the right balance when surrounded by so many obstacles. Only when he reached the edge of town did Silas manage it exactly as the coachman had instructed. The finer points of driving occupied much of his thoughts as he continued the path back to Titchley, but as the road grew ever more familiar, his attention drifted through the various goings-on of his life before settling on a subject that occupied far too much of his time.
With Hatch working the books, the shipments all accounted for, the plans for their newest vessel moving forward, and both theMercuryandPhoenixout and about, Silas found himself with a few hours free this afternoon. Enough time for a social call.
Yet when the road into the town proper approached, Silas’s stomach sank. Surely, a courting man ought to feel at least a faint flutter of excitement over passing a few minutes with a pretty lady vying for his affection. By Jove, Silas had plenty of candidates to choose from, but for all his fanciful notions about the thrill of courtship, it was not quite as enjoyable as he’d expected it to be. Shouldn’t a courting man feel more joy and less dread?
Of course, he could hardly say he was courting as there was no particular lady who had captured his fancy. They were each enjoyable for a conversation after church or during a dinner party, but when it came time to seek one out, not one was intriguing enough to pursue. They were nice ladies, to be sure, but they did not leave him anticipating another conversation.
Miss Stevenson was vivacious. Her bright personality was a pleasure to be around, but they shared no similar interests or views. Silas valued her joviality, but it bordered on flippancy far too often, and he doubted she could delve past the superficial enjoyments of life.
Mrs. Armitage had a more serious nature but lacked Miss Stevenson’s levity. She wasn’t incapable of laughing, but Silas saw very little levity from her even when the situation called for it. Though it was not the prime characteristic he sought for in a wife, Silas had already been married to someone who did not appreciate or understand his humor, and it had not gone well for either of them.
