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As he squinted toward the building, Henriette hurriedly climbed into the carriage, peering at them through the window.
“So it would seem.” She began strolling, and he walked beside her, leading his horse along behind him on the side of the road. If he considered it strange that she did not have a chaperone, he didn’t say anything. In truth, Scotland was much less stringent about such things compared to society in England. It was something for which Siobhan was eternally grateful.
“My friend Henriette and I purchase food and other necessary items and bring them to the shelter. We also bring whatever we manage to collect throughout the week. There is much need, my lord.” She deliberately left out the part about visiting Susan, hoping to steer the conversation away from the subject.
“Indeed. Except the shelter isn’t in that building, obviously. Which leads one to wonder, why do you then go into such an unsafe place after? Your driver tells me you do so every week.” His voice was smooth, genteel, and somehow very stern. Of course. He barely knew her, yet he’d apparently decided her welfare and whereabouts were somehow his business.
Annoyance at the fact she had to explain herself boiled inside her. Of course he would never understand. Noblemen like Miles Johnstone had others do such work for them. He would never lower himself to see after people like Susan and her children.
Drat. Worse, he wasn’t about to leave it alone. Her excuse hadn’t worked, obviously. She’d have to remember to tell the driver to not be so open with people about what she did. Not that it mattered, now. With a sinking heart, she decided to be honest with him, since it appeared she had no other choice. “We visit a young widow, Susan, who is very sickly and has a hard time caring for her children, Emily, Billy, and baby Sarah. Henrietta and I got to know her through our volunteer work. When she’d stopped coming to the mission suddenly, we had to find out what happened.”
“So you deliver to her?”
Not knowing Miles well, Siobhan had no way of extricating what he thought or felt by his expression. The man seemed to wear a mask—albeit a handsome one—that didn’t allow for any expression of emotion. She supposed she understood. After all, didn’t she often don a similar mask herself?
There was so much that society expected, but so little that they actually knew. She sighed.
“Henriette and I deliver food and do some things to help. We bathe the children, bring them things they need or can use, and cook a meal. It is not much, but I feel better knowing that for a few days out of the week, they eat well and are clean.” She paused before adding, “It seems the least we can do. Honestly, we should do more but are stopped because ‘proper’ young ladies do not go inside—as you put it—‘such a place’.” There. Take that, she thought. With any luck, he’d feel some compassion, something that few in their society seemed to possess.
His brows lowered and he gave her a quizzical look, almost as if he had many more questions, but had lost the ability to formulate them. “I see.”
At his words, she decided it was best to charge forward with her request. Siobhan placed her hand on his forearm to stop him from taking another step. When he turned to face her, his regard so intent, she inhaled sharply.
“I must ask…no. I must beg of you. Please do not say anything about… about this to anyone. My mother will forbid me from returning and it is important I ensure the family is taken care of. Without our help, Susan could die, and her children will end up in the workhouse. Henriette and I pay for her rent out of our pin money, but there is so much more needed.”
“She has no family?” he asked. That he hadn’t responded to her request was worrisome.
“There is none. I believe her parents have perished and her dead husband was an orphan. They are very poor.” She pressed his arm with her fingers, feeling the warmth of it through the fabric of his riding jacket. “Will you keep my secret?” Siobhan asked again, noting they’d arrived at the tea shop. She met his eyes with her own. “Please.”
Miles nodded. “For the moment. However, I must say what you already know. This is a dangerous area. It is not safe for women such as yourself and your friend to be about without someone looking out for you. It is not enough to leave your driver outside, because once you are inside that building, what if harm comes to you?”
Sending a silent prayer to heaven, Siobhan was glad Henriette’s brother had left early that day. Otherwise, she was sure Miles would have much to say to him about covering up what they did.
“My lord,” she began, needing to ensure that he understood why they did what they did. “The people of our social circle have galas where there is an overabundance of food and drink. Money is given for causes, but no one ever ensures to see if indeed the money is spent for the causes, or if it is recycled for another gala.” Siobhan hoped the absurdity, the avarice, and the worthlessness of it all occurred to him now, if it hadn’t ever before.
She took a breath and continued, “Do you know that even though there have been galas and collections for the shelter, it has never received any of that money? Instead, every so often a wagon will come and deliver a few used blankets or perhaps, already-worn shoes and cast off clothes. It is rarely enough to make a difference.”
He studied her for a moment, his expression grave and thoughtful. “I must admit. That is very surprising.”
Reassured by his words, she continued, “What we throw away after a social gathering could feed every person living in that building twice over. I know what I do makes little difference to the whole of impoverished people, but the few coins I spend to purchase items that I deliver to them makes a huge impact to Susan and her bairns. The help Henriette and I give that small family means the world to them. It keeps them alive. So I do not care what society deems ‘proper’ or ‘appropriate’ for a young lady. The fact of the matter is, my lord, I will not stop.”
Chapter Three
Miles had to admit, Siobhan Blair was like no other woman he’d ever met. Not only was everything she did unconventional, but she was unrepentant. It seemed whatever she set her mind to, she did, and with zeal.
Standing in front of the tea shop, with the reins of his horse clutched in his fist, the aroma of fragrant tea mixtures and pastries whirled around them as she pleaded her case, explaining why she’d taken on the yoke of humanitarian. From the enthusiasm in her voice and sparkle of her eyes, it was obvious this was something she was passionate about, and truly, as she pled her case, he could not blame her for it. There was nothing to be had but admiration.
Was she as passionate in every area of her life? It was an intriguing thought, and as she made her appeal, Miles considered her graceful gestures and womanly curves, unable to stop his mind as it wandered to dangerous territory, especially when standing outdoors in front of the vibrant woman.
He realized she had stilled and was waiting for his response. He reined in his desire and set his mind back on course. “I must admit to finding your enterprise to be most unexpected for a woman of our social status. But you must be aware that when you are found out, it could harm any possibility of you ever finding a suitor, or for that matter, a husband.”
The corners of her lips quirked, and she waved away his comment. “I have no need for either. I have decided to remain at home with my parents and continue a life free of the constrictions that come with marriage.”
For some reason disappointment gathered in him. It was as if he’d spied a beautiful bird dying and knowing the creature’s songs would be silenced forever. “Do you really feel that way?”
Siobhan nodded, then appeared to sniff the air. She frowned. “I am sorry, my lord. I do wish I had time for tea, but your advice has reminded me that Henriette and I must hurry home. I am sure my mother and Amelia have plans for a ride or something ‘appropriate’ for a young, marriage-minded lady such as my sister. Although, hopefully, suitors will come for her, and she will be distracted from the plan to promenade.” She made to walk past him and return to her carriage.
He was surprised to feel disappointed, and it occurred to him he wasn’t saddened that they weren’t going to share tea but because she was hurrying away from him. Why he was reluctant to allow her to leave, he could not—no, would not—say.