David Lord of Honor (The Lonely Lords) (38 page)

And it worked. The Banks menfolk subsided, Daniel into a rocking chair, Danny to a corner of the sofa near Letty’s chair.

“Danny, listen to me: everybody has a papa. My own papa died before you were born. Lord Fairly’s papa is gone too. Your papa got sick and died, the same as my own mama and papa did. That’s all. It’s sad that your papa died before he could know you, but I’ve loved you since the day I knew God was sending you to us, and that’s what counts. So has Daniel.”

“But she said…” Danny sniffled, dragging a finger under his nose.

Letty shifted to the sofa and used David’s handkerchief to tidy up her son—another skill mothers laid claim to that Letty could apparently appropriate.

“Tell us,” Letty said, slipping an arm around the boy. “Tell us, because she’s far away, and the people who love you need to know what she said.”

“She said I was nobody’s, that I have no mama and no papa, and if I was bad, I’d end up like Malkin Tidebird.”

Even Letty had heard this tale of the boy from Little Weldon who’d been lost for weeks in London.

“Malkin’s family found him, didn’t they?” Daniel prompted. Across the room, David rocked slowly and petted the cat, who’d found its way to his lap.

“Nobody would look for me,” Danny protested. “I would have to eat garbage and I’d be cold and the rats would get me and I would die of an ague!”

“If you belonged to nobody,” Letty said, gathering the boy onto her lap, exactly where he should be, “then maybe those bad things might happen. But you belong to me, and to Daniel. You belong to the people who love you, and we will not let bad things happen, Danny. Even Zubbie loves you.” That merited a small smile from the child, at least.

“He’s always a good boy for me.”

“See?” Daniel gently poked the boy in the tummy, provoking a giggle. “Even a horse knows you’re lovable and special, and tries to get you to be his friend. I don’t want to hear any more talk about rubbish heaps, if you please.”

“But did you know her?” Danny prompted. “Before she died, did you know my real mother?”

Letty smoothed a hand over her son’s unruly dark hair. Perhaps in this one instance, Olivia had been attempting to be kind to the boy, offering a version of the truth, because the girl Letty had been—gullible, inexperienced, self-centered—she surely had died.

Though her maternal instincts were apparently alive and well. “Daniel, if you would please explain this to Danny?”

“That is an entirely different matter,” Daniel said, straightening his lapels as Letty had seen him do many times in the churchyard.

“You knew her?” Danny pressed.

“I am looking at her.”

Never had Letty loved her brother more, and yet, it was David’s steadying gaze, David’s slight smile that fortified her. Danny followed Daniel’s gaze, and his little eyes went round as comprehension dawned.

“Aunt Letty is my real mother?” he whispered.

“She is,” Daniel said. “She always has been, but she couldn’t always take care of you. That’s why she spent most of her visits with you, Danny, because she missed you so much.”

Danny pulled away to study his mother. “Why is Aunt Letty crying?”

“I can answer that,” Letty said. “I’m crying because I could not stay with you once you were no longer a baby. I’m crying because I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m crying because I have missed you every d-day since I left Little Weldon, and I’m crying because I’m happy for you to know the truth, even though it might be hard.”

The child looked bewildered, but Letty could only wipe at her cheeks and try not to hug the stuffing right out of him.

“She’s crying,” David said, “because she’s worried you will be angry with her. You are not the only one who’s been afraid of a trip to the rubbish heap.”

Danny was a bright child, and David had put the matter in terms he could understand.

“I’m not mad.”

“Good,” Daniel said as Letty tried to find a dry spot on the much-used handkerchief. “We’ll give your mama a chance to collect herself, then. But, Danny?”

Your
mama.
Letty nearly dissolved into outright sobs at two simple words.

“Yes, sir?”

“Were there any other secrets?”

“Just one. She said she was going to go away soon, and I wouldn’t know where to find her. But that wasn’t a bad secret. That was a good secret.”

“It was also the truth,” Daniel replied with a sardonic smile. “At least the part about her going away. She and I won’t be under the same roof anymore, Danny.”

“Good,” the boy replied firmly. “Is there any more chocolate?”

The question assured Letty that her son would weather these revelations well enough, in time.

“There is,” Letty said. “Would you like to come with me to the kitchen so we can see about getting you some?” Because she was
his
mama
, and a mama could spoil her son in small ways whenever she pleased.

“Yes!” Danny bounced off her lap, grabbed Letty’s hand, and dragged her toward the door. David rose to meet them and put a staying hand on her arm.

He said nothing, merely kissed Letty’s cheek and winked, then shooed her into the front hall and closed the door.

Seventeen

David surveyed the remaining victim of Olivia Banks’s scheming—for Letty and Danny would find their way, of that he was sure.

“Letty keeps decent liquor on the premises, if you’d like me to scare you up a medicinal tot,” he offered. Though when he’d stocked Letty’s sideboard, he’d never envisioned the liquor would be used for medicinal purposes.

Banks slumped in his chair. “Last night was rather adventurous for me. That will have to serve as my signal incident of drunken excess.”

“You’ve a lot to learn about drunken excess, Banks, but as a papa, you did splendidly,” David said, taking the other rocker. “Broke my heart to see it.”

And he’d never admired a man more.

“Broke my heart too, and Letty’s heart broke every time she saw the child in my care. God above, to think what Olivia did to that innocent little boy…”

“Tried to do.” Because she’d failed. Danny was in no way headed for any rubbish heaps, and never would be. “His trust has been abused, but in the end, he was honest with the people he could rely on and was relieved of his burden. He certainly wasn’t going to tell me a thing. Who was Malkin Tidebird?”

Banks sat up a bit. “Malkin is one of eleven Tidebirds, and when he turned six, his parents apprenticed him to a cooper here in London. The arrangements got confused, and Malkin was left at some tavern, while the cooper awaited him at another tavern. The boy wandered the streets for weeks, begging, eating scraps, and sleeping in doorways, before a letter from the cooper reached the family, and they could come searching for him. They eventually found Malkin filthy, emaciated, and barely existing as a mud lark.”

“A cautionary tale.” Which could have ended even more unhappily.

“Terrifying,” Banks said. “We set up a prayer chain, so until the boy was found, somebody was praying for him at every moment. On second thought, I’ll have a small tot.”

“Of course.” David opened a sideboard that stood along one wall. He poured two glasses of brandy and took one to Banks. “Will you be all right?”

Banks tossed back the liquor in a single swallow and held out his glass for more. David considered he’d just watched a man take his first step away from a religious vocation, and added Banks to the list of people he’d pray for each night.

“I will not be all right, not for a long, long time.”

David refilled the glass, Banks being a substantial fellow, despite lack of familiarity with strong spirits. “You can’t drown your sorrows in truth, you know,” David said, putting the bottle away. “And you have done the right thing and the only thing, under the circumstances.”

“I love that child,” Banks informed his drink. “But I was a fool to believe Olivia when she said Letty chose to leave him to go into service. Letty’s his mother, for God’s sake. She carried him in her body, nourished him at her breast for the first year of his life… And I was willing to think she left him behind with a relieved sigh to go beat rugs for the Quality in Town. I was deluded.”

Good people often were. They viewed the world as full of others like them, until experience proved them wrong. “You can’t abandon the boy now.”

Daniel tossed him an incredulous look. “You’ve seen to it—and Olivia has seen to it—that Letty can provide for him better than I can. She’s his mother. I am only an uncle who is about to part company with spouse, church, and livelihood.”

Progress, not away from sainthood, but perhaps in the direction of being human. The cat hopped into the vicar’s lap and went to work shredding another pair of borrowed breeches.

David silently toasted his companion. “I’m relieved to hear you pouting. Nobody could sustain the nobility of character you’ve displayed here today.”

“I’m not pouting.”

He was grieving, or he would be soon. “Glad to hear it, but don’t sulk, then. Don’t slink off and think you’ve no place in the child’s life. You are the person he loves most in the whole world right now, and if you disappear, he will blame himself.”

Banks petted the cat, and the beast began to rumble. “I thought you didn’t have children, and yet you seem to understand their funny little minds. That is exactly what Danny would do.”

“My aunt collected me from my mother’s humble Scottish household when I was about Danny’s age, for a ‘visit’ to England. I took two years to comprehend that I would be visiting England for the rest of my childhood, and I never again shared a household for any length of time with my mother. You can’t run out on Danny now, Banks. I won’t allow it.”

Because left to his overdeveloped theological tendencies, Banks would fashion an emotional hair shirt and depart for parts distant.

“You,” Banks said around another sip of his drink, “and your allowing can go hang.”

The kind thing to do was goad the saintly bastard, because he’d probably refuse to get drunk. “Such talk from a man of the cloth.”

Banks smiled then, a small, genuine smile that reminded David that Letty’s brother was a damned good-looking saintly bastard. “I am looking forward to cursing, and to overindulging on occasion, and having a second helping of pie, and owning more horses like Zubbie. Being a vicar—a good example—is a lot of work.”

“A damned lot of work.”

“A bloody damned lot of work, and I’ve done enough of it.”

Cursing sounded good from the saint—relaxed, casual, fun, the way a man should curse.

“If we leave them alone in the kitchen much longer, there won’t be any chocolate left.”

“Nothing for it then.” Banks tossed back his drink, set the cat down, and pushed to his feet. “Time to defend the damned chocolate.”

***

“How does Daniel seem to you?” Letty asked David as they strolled his back garden two weeks from what she thought of as That Day. That Day she’d become a mother once more, a proper sister, and a woman who took responsibility for her own happiness.

“I don’t know your brother well, but he seems lighter, more aware of the potential gain before him, less preoccupied with the losses.”

Since Daniel had come to Town, Letty and David had spent many pleasant hours like this. They walked in the garden or in the park. They indulged in a quiet chat over tea. They took time for Danny and Daniel to adjust to the changes in their lives. But at no time had David pressed more than chaste affections on her.

“I agree with your assessment,” Letty said, “though I think my brother would find this whole process easier if he knew Danny and I would be provided for.”

David paused to snap off a white rose and pass it to her. “You have enough money at your disposal…”

Letty accepted the rose, which was pretty but had thorns and little fragrance. “I meant, if Daniel knew we were
loved
, provided for in that sense.”

Because that was the sense that mattered most. Around them, the gardens were approaching their finest summer glory, and yet Letty wanted only for David to look at her the way he used to—with love.

“You
are
loved, Letty Banks,” he said quietly. “You know this.”

How many men had hidden behind the fig leaf of passive voice because women had driven them there?

Letty kissed his cheek and leaned against him. Slowly, his arms stole around her.

“What I meant, David Worthington, is that my brother’s conscience would be more at ease if I were married to you, and Danny was a part of our household.” She’d meant to
ask
if David might still be interested in fashioning a life with her.

“You’d marry me to appease your brother’s conscience?” He didn’t kiss her back, didn’t stroke his hands down her spine, didn’t brush his fingers over her nape.

She would stand here all day having this discussion if necessary—and all night. “Daniel’s welfare is a concern. Then, too, I want to set a better example for
my
son
.”

How she loved those two words. Probably the only two words more lovely would be “our child.”

“Setting an example is important,” David murmured. “Very important. May we sit?” He gestured to a bench near the roses, a spot where they’d spent hours before Letty had parted from him weeks ago.