A Simple Lady (26 page)

But while Elizabeth automatically voiced the words that were keeping the two boys enthralled, her mind insisted upon flitting from one anxiety to another. Could Gerald really be guilty of instigating the problems at Oak Groves? Was her husband in danger from his cousin? Did Kenrick realize how badly she had misjudged him? If so, could he ever forgive her?

“Miz Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth glanced up to see that Johnny was watching her closely, a worried expression in his beautiful eyes. Johnny was, in fact, a very handsome little lad, with his dark hair, round face, and long dark eyelashes surrounding deep blue eyes.

“Yes, Johnny?”

“Billy’s worried about you. He says you look unhappy this morning. Is there something wrong?”

Touched both by Billy’s concern and his perceptiveness, Elizabeth smiled and reached to playfully tousle his carroty hair.

“Now what could be wrong, my kind little friend?” she asked. “I am sure no lady in London is as lucky as I am this morning, to have as companions two such handsome young men.”

Billy grinned, although the concern in his eyes didn’t fade. Nor did Johnny appear convinced. “Billy’s right,” he said. “There are some sad thoughts troubling ye today. But, if ye don’t want to share your troubles—”

“Johnny,” Elizabeth interrupted, suddenly recalling a question she had intended to ask the boy when next she saw him. “I’ve been wondering how you located Billy after I brought him here.”

She was surprised to note a sudden and sincere grin light Billy’s face, even as his fingers began to hastily form the motions that served as his communication with Johnny. Johnny watched for only seconds before a hint of color rose in his round cheeks.

Ducking his head, he translated: “Billy says to tell you there ain’t nobody in London can track down a person like me. I learnt it from my Pa, who was a Runner afore he died.”

“Your father was a Bow Street Runner?”

“Yes’m.”

“Do you now live with your mother, Johnny?”

“No’m. She’s dead, too. I live with my oldest sister, but she’s got three younguns of ’er own and don’t have much time for me.”

“I see,” Elizabeth said thoughtfully. “Well, you must feel free to visit me and Billy whenever you wish. You may also join him for his reading and writing lessons every morning.”

The expression on Johnny’s face didn’t suggest he was overjoyed by Elizabeth’s offer of free lessons, but he didn’t have time to reply. A knock on the door heralded Larkman’s entrance, followed by a solemn announcement that Gerald was below requesting Elizabeth’s company for his morning ride.

Elizabeth jumped to her feet. She should have been expecting a visit from Gerald, but somehow she wasn’t really prepared. “Thank you, Larkman,” she said, a bit unsteadily. “Please extend my apologies to Gerald and explain to him that I am not feeling quite the thing this morning. In fact, I believe I’ll retire to my bedchamber immediately and rest for a while.”

She hurried to the door, then paused and glanced back. Billy and Johnny were exchanging concerned glances, but when they saw her looking at them, both boys quickly nodded and smiled as though attempting to assure her that they weren’t worried about her at all. She wished she could stay and reassure them, but since she’d sent word to Gerald that she was going to her bedchamber immediately, she had no other option.

She left the schoolroom and hurried down the corridor, wishing she was a good deal more adept at concocting convincing excuses. After all, she really hoped to be able to avoid Gerald completely in the days to come.

Chapter Twenty

Elizabeth spent two harrowing days avoiding Gerald’s invitations and trying to placate Mary’s concerns. Never good at dissembling, she feared she had aroused the suspicions of both by her steadfast refusal to leave the house. She arose reluctantly on the third morning of Kenrick’s absence, aware she couldn’t spend another day claiming to feel too ill to ride with Gerald and too tired to attend parties with Mary. Any more protestations about feeling poorly and Mary was going to send for the doctor.

This morning, having gone down to breakfast as usual, Elizabeth was thrilled to note that the skies were clouding up. Rain would provide an excellent excuse for declining should Gerald arrive with another invitation to join him for a morning ride.

But Gerald didn’t appear that morning. Elizabeth, after working with Billy for a couple of hours in the schoolroom, decided to take advantage of this opportunity to begin teaching him his responsibilities as her page. She wasn’t certain herself what those responsibilities should be, but she decided to begin by familiarizing him with the various rooms in the house, reasoning that he would need such information if she were ever to send him on errands for her.

They had reached the dining room when Mary appeared. “My dear Elizabeth, should you be up? Are you feeling better today?”

“Thank you for your concern, Mary. I feel very well today and am showing Billy around the house.”

“Really, dear? Why?”

Because he is to be my page and must know where various rooms are located in case I wish to ask him to, say, fetch my handkerchief which I left in another part of the house.”

“Your page?” Mary was regarding the homely little boy with no small degree of skepticism.

“Yes,” Elizabeth replied firmly. “He will make a wonderful page. Now, if you will excuse us, I wish to familiarize him with the drawing room.”

“I’ll join you. I had intended to see if I left my needlework in there last evening.”

After Elizabeth described for Billy the bag in which her mother-in-law carried her needlework, he began industriously searching behind chairs and under tables. Elizabeth decided to help and was looking beneath a chair cushion when Gerald was announced.

He entered the drawing room on Larkman’s heels and returned Mary’s pleasant greeting with a distracted air. When he turned to Elizabeth, he scrutinized her carefully. “Are you feeling better today, dear Cousin?” he asked.

At Elizabeth’s affirmative answer, he breathed a deep sigh of relief. “I am so pleased, both for your sake and for my own. I fear, my dear, that you see before you a gentleman deeply in need of assistance, and I can think of no one except you who might be able to help me.”

Gerald did look disheveled this morning, Elizabeth noted when he had lowered himself into a chair. His cravat was tied much more casually than usual. His coat was wrinkled, his boots dusty, and his hair wind-blown.

“What’s wrong, Gerald?” she asked, concerned by the near feverish glitter in his eyes.

“I’ve just endured a most unsettling experience. Under ordinary circumstances, I would not sully the ears of ladies with the details, but you, Elizabeth, are the only person of my acquaintance who can possibly help the darling little girl.”

“Girl?” Mary asked quickly. “What girl?”

Gerald pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and blotted the perspiration that dotted his forehead. “It’s not a pretty story. Elizabeth, I wonder if I might have a glass of brandy.”

Having never seen the immaculate Gerald so unnerved before, Elizabeth hurried to the sideboard to pour him a glass of strong spirits. She couldn’t help but notice that, when he took it from her with a murmur of thanks, his hand was shaking.

“Don’t keep us in suspense, Gerald,” she said. “What has occurred to upset you so much?”

Gerald swallowed half of the brandy before lowering the glass. Then he grimaced before beginning his story. “You ladies are perhaps not aware that in this city, there are hundreds of private residences used to house the insane or, in many cases, to incarcerate unfortunate people who have been inaccurately declared deranged by those who should be their protectors.”

“What do you mean, Gerald?” Mary asked sharply.

Gerald shrugged. “It is one of the disgraces of our time—a practice that is not widely known but frequently occurs. Let us say, for example, that a husband tires of his troublesome wife and wants to be rid of her. It’s a simple matter for him to incarcerate her in one of the private homes that supposedly serve as asylums for the insane. He pays to have her locked up in a tiny chamber which she may have to share with other people who are actually demented. The conditions in such places are usually deplorable, for although Bedlam and St. Luke’s are subject to government control, these private madhouses are not.”

Elizabeth felt the hair rise on the back of her neck. “What do you know of such places, Gerald?” she asked.

“The sister of one of my friends has disappeared, and her husband claims to have no knowledge of her whereabouts. My friend, who is conversant with his brother-in-law’s vices, suspects that his sister has been incarcerated in a house such as those I have described. He asked me to help search for her, and I agreed. We visited five of those deplorable places just this morning. In one of them, I found a darling little girl.”

“A child in such a place?” Mary said, dismay clear in her tone.

“Yes. She is just five years old, a beautiful little girl with golden hair and the deepest blue eyes I have ever seen. After I gave the proprietor a substantial bribe, he was willing to relate the little girl’s story. She is from a respectable family, but her father is terribly jealous of his wife. When the child was born with coloring different from either of her parents, the father, convinced the child was not his, refused to acknowledge her and paid a considerable sum to have her locked up in this house where her only companions are three elderly women who are totally mad.”

“My God,” Elizabeth whispered, staring at Gerald in horror. “Was there no way you could have brought the child to me, Gerald? I would pay whatever was necessary to remove her from that hideous atmosphere.”

“I tried, Elizabeth. I knew what your wishes would be. Unfortunately, the poor child screamed every time I came near her. I can only assume that her father mistreated her before placing her in that home and that she is terrified of all males. That’s why I am here. I’m hoping, dear cousin, that you’ll go back to that house with me. I feel sure little Rebecca would allow you to rescue her. You have an unusual affinity with children.”

“Give me five minutes to fetch my bonnet and reticule,” Elizabeth responded. She hurried from the room, having completely forgotten about Billy, who had been huddled behind the settee from the moment Gerald entered the room.

Gerald guided his curricle through the busy London streets while Elizabeth sat beside him, clutching her reticule and wondering how Kenrick would react to her bringing another child into the house. She did have a tendency to adopt things, she supposed—first Apollo, then Billy, and now a little girl. But, after seeing how kind her husband had been to Billy, Elizabeth was certain he wouldn’t object to her rescuing this little girl.

“How much further, Gerald?” Elizabeth asked. She’d paid very little attention to their route but was beginning to notice that they had entered a part of London that was new to her. The narrow houses overhung the streets, effectively shutting out what little light filtered through the dense clouds.

“Not far now, Cousin,” he said, briefly turning to Elizabeth with a bright smile. The glitter she had noted earlier in his eyes was still there, making Elizabeth wonder why Gerald was still so excited. Surely he didn’t doubt that she would be able to persuade the little girl to come with her.

In less than five minutes, Gerald had turned into a small square where the houses were a bit more tidy and spacious than those they had just passed. “There it is,” he said, pointing toward a solid brick sitting in a small and unkempt garden. “She’s in that house.”

Elizabeth glanced up at the small square windows that lined the second story and shivered when she saw the heavy iron bars covering each opening. “Let’s hurry, Gerald. This place unnerves me.”

“It’s rather nice in comparison to most such houses,” Gerald informed her with a tiny frown, almost, Elizabeth thought, as though she were criticizing the place. But that was silly. Perhaps he was as affected by the atmosphere as she was.

Suppressing another shiver of distaste, Elizabeth allowed Gerald to help her descend from the curricle and to guide her toward the walk leading to a sturdy front door. “Did you explain to the caretaker that you would be returning with me?” she asked.

“I certainly did,” Gerald replied. His frown had turned into a rather grim smile. “I paid him well so he wouldn’t forget. In fact, I see that our host, Horace, awaits us at the door.”

Elizabeth had not expected her courage to fail her at such a moment, but neither had she anticipated that the proprietor of this private madhouse would possess every ill-favored feature with which a novelist might have endowed such a character. He was enormous, both in height and girth, with a low brow, small and close-set eyes, and slumping shoulders. The grin that split his unshaven jowls revealed a host of missing teeth as he lumbered out to meet them.

“This her?” he asked, grinning at Gerald and nodding toward Elizabeth.

Gerald quickly reached to grasp Elizabeth’s hand, a gesture she very much appreciated because she was feeling more than a bit intimidated. She was surprised, however, to find that Gerald’s hand was trembling a little. Could Gerald, too, be nervous? If so, he tried to hide his feelings by giving her an encouraging smile as he led her to the front door.

A blast of unpleasant odors greeted Elizabeth as she stepped into the dimly lit entrance hall. Her stomach threatened to rebel as the stench of unwashed bodies, unemptied chamber pots, and overcooked food assailed her nostrils. Swallowing down the bile that rose in her throat, Elizabeth clutched Gerald’s hand more tightly. “Can we hurry, please?” she asked.

“Of course,” Gerald said. Still grasping her hand, he pulled her toward a set of stairs located far back in the shadowed entrance. “Upstairs. Don’t worry, Elizabeth. This won’t take long.”

Elizabeth allowed Gerald to lead her up the stairs and down a long hallway with tightly closed doors on either side. The hulking Horace followed close behind. Only when they reached the very last door on the right did Gerald stop and reach to lift the door latch.