“Not well, and what I know of him I like even less now than before. Pardon me for saying so. What of the baby’s father?”
“Wilfred Carstairs is a Viscount’s third son. All charm and no backbone. I was deceived as to his character.” She described the little purse he handed her along with threats should she attempt to ruin him.
“We could manage his ruin easily enough without implicating you,” the earl murmured. “Except—if I recognized the family name correctly—the rotter died three months ago. Set upon by footpads while staggering home drunk, I believe.”
She almost pitied Wilfred for the fool he was, but she had no energy for it. “He’d have been of no assistance in any case,” she said. The earl’s steady gaze calmed her. She saw no condemnation. “I’m afraid there is no way you can use your connections on my behalf,” she said, “but I thank you for your interest, my lord.”
“On the contrary, I believe I can; that’s why we are here. Sergeant Marsh spoke to you about the subscription position at the Assembly Rooms.”
Hope soared.
“References are needed,” the earl went on. “I can supply that, but before I do, we need to have your story ironed out.”
Hope dimmed. “Lies are not easily maintained,” she told him. She should know.
“I agree. I find it best to tell the truth or at least as much of it as possible. Let’s see what we know. Your parents are ‘gone’; let them assume what they will about that. That’s true enough—they are dead to you.”
She nodded.
“You grew up in the country. What county? Norfolk, I believe. Near what village?”
She told him. He asked for the one farthest away, but still familiar to her in case questions arose. “Near is a relative term,” he explained.
“And we will tell them Major Linder is dead. They don’t need to know you never met the man, only that such a person existed and is dead.”
A grin, entirely unexpected, lit up her face. “You are a clever man, my lord.”
“What do you think, Marsh? Will it serve?” the earl asked.
Doug’s eyes devoured Esther, and the heat in them warmed her. “That’ll do, my lord,” he said. “That’ll do.”
CHAPTER8
“Goodness but you’re thin. We’ll have to fatten you up.” Aunt Edna’s bedroom door muffled the words, but Doug heard them clearly enough.Good plan, he thought, walking away with a smile on his face.
He smiled a lot lately, or so his aunt told him. The old woman had insisted they invite Esther and “the wee one,” to dine with them. As soon as the dishes were removed after dinner, her unspoken plan became clear. “Has to have proper clothes. Not too fancy, not too poor to satisfy those swells at the Assembly Rooms.” She bustled Esther into the bedroom nattering on about dresses. “Have plenty I don’t wear. We’ll have ’em altered in a trice.”
He looked down at the little bundle in his arms. “Best leave the women to it, Dougie. They don’t want us interfering.”
Esther had rushed over that morning to show him the formal request from Mr. Fowler summoning “Mrs. Major Linder” to an interview, due to the “superior references from the Earl of Chadbourn.” Shortly after, Doug received a similar missive, this one notifying him that the contract for not one but four sets of four hundred spermaceti candles was ready to sign. If they did well, future contracts would be in the offing. He was certain of it and delighted he could hire another ex-soldier or two. He had no doubt the Earl had intervened on his behalf as well.
As the women’s voices receded, he descended the stairs holding the railing with one hand and his precious bundle firmly against his shoulder with the other. The earl’s last words came to him. “Even once she’s hired, they’ll need looking after, Marsh. She needs you.”
“What do you suppose he meant by that, Dougie? Hmm?” he asked, lowering them both into his comfortable armchair.She may need help now, but she’ll find her way with her own kind soon enough, especially when she’s part of the Assembly Rooms.
The baby blinked back briefly before his tiny mouth stretched into a smile. The boy appeared to be thriving and Doug felt a surge of irrational pride, as if he himself had ensured this. In a way, perhaps, he had. He planned to see that the boy continued to bloom, one way or another.
Moments ticked by with no sign of the women until both males dozed together, the tiny boy snuggled on the man’s sturdy shoulder. Doug had no idea how long he slept before steps on the stairs woke him up. He blinked his bleary eyes until they came into focus on a sight that stole his breath. Esther stood in the parlor door.
A blue dress he couldn’t remember seeing before accented her form so well that he could feast his eyes on feminine curves that now showed neither the bulk of pregnancy nor the deprivations of hunger. Her simple gown might be made over, and not quite the height of fashion, but it accented the color of her eyes and gave her skin a healthy glow. His eyes rose to her face, and he wondered with a flash of foolish hope if the roses in her cheeks derived from the company rather than the gown.
He must have jerked upright when she entered because the baby came awake and began to fuss. His vision in blue hurried across the room to take the little one, leaving Doug feeling bereft on all counts.
“Will I do, Sergeant Marsh?” Esther asked, gently rocking the baby.
Do?His entire body came alert at the sight of her.Not for you, Doug, he reminded himself. The Earl of Malebranche’s daughter didn’t belong with a tradesman.
“They would be fools not to hire you,” Aunt Edna, who had come down behind her, said.
