Intimate 02 - Intimate Surrender (21 page)

She looked at Rafe’s shocked expression. “That’s how I acquired Coventry Cottage.”

His mouth dropped. “You got it from Covey. From the Marquess of Coventry.”

Hannah smiled. “Yes. From Covey. Over the years, I’d been here often. I loved it here, and Covey knew it. When he died, he left it to me to do with as I saw fit.”

“And you saw fit to turn it into a home for the girls you rescued off the streets.”

“Yes. Heaven knows there’s enough room. One wing houses the girls’ rooms. They are required to care for their rooms and keep them spotless. The classrooms are on the west wing. The girls spend four hours each day at their studies. They learn to read and to do basic numbers. Then in the afternoons, they do various household duties. While there, they are evaluated by the staff.

“The girls who show an interest and the aptitude for running a household are given the opportunity to work with Mrs. Grange, the housekeeper. Those who show a talent for cooking are sent to the kitchen to help Cook. Those who show an interest in outdoor work are encouraged to tend the garden and take care of the produce. And those who enjoy tending the babes go to the nursery to take care of the children.”

“Babes? There are babes here?”

“Yes, they are kept in the east wing. There are always babes. They are the smallest victims in this tragedy. Would you like to see them?”

“Yes,” Rafe answered. “I’d like to see all the girls. I’d like to visit with them.”

Hannah rose to her feet. “Follow me, then.”

She turned to the door, but stopped short when Rosie rushed into the room.

“I think you’d best come quick, Miss Genevieve. Jenny is having her babe, and things aren’t going good.”

Hannah rushed to where Rosie held open the door. “Is the doctor here?”

“Yes, but he says he doesn’t think he can save her.”

“And the babe?”

“Probably not the babe either.”

“Damn Skinner,” Hannah said as she rushed across the marble-tiled floor and up the stairs that led to the rooms where the girls expecting babes were housed. “How much longer will he be allowed to murder innocent young girls?”

When Hannah reached the top of the stairs, she ran to Jenny’s room. She wasn’t sure she could go through this again. Wasn’t sure she could hold another young girl’s hand while life slipped from her body. But she had to.

Someone had held her hand while she’d been delivered of her babe. Someone had held her hand as life slipped from her body. And from her babe’s.

And that hand had kept Hannah from giving up.

Especially when her babe had died in her arms.

R
afe had never prayed as hard in his life.

Several hours passed, and he paced the floor outside the room where the girl, Jenny, struggled to give birth to a new life. He knew it wasn’t going well. Everyone who exited the room wore a look of despair.

At first he’d heard muffled sounds coming from the room; now—nothing.

He turned as the door opened again and one of the servants walked out with a bundle of soiled linens in her arms. “Has she had the babe yet?” he asked, praying it was over.

The girl nodded. “She had a wee little lassie, but the doctor says it probably won’t live. The birthing was too hard on it.”

“And Jenny?”

She shook her head as more tears streamed down her cheeks.

Rafe felt a wave of desperation. He’d been at the bedside of several good Christians leaving this world, and for those who knew what awaited them, it was a joyful occasion. He wanted to make sure Jenny knew that comfort.

And there was the babe to baptize.

Rafe opened the door and took in the sight around him. The doctor was preparing to leave, and Rafe stepped aside as one of Hannah’s servants escorted him from the room. Mrs. Rosebury sat in a rocker in the corner of the room and held a small bundle in her arms. Hannah sat on the bed and held Jenny’s hand.

Rafe walked forward.

Hannah saw him first and looked up. Tears filled her eyes and streamed down her cheek. She tried to smile, but Rafe saw how difficult it was for her.

“Hello, Jenny,” he said, smiling down on the young girl. Death was near. He knew it. And so did Hannah. “My name is Vicar Waterford.”

“Did you come because I’m going to die?” she asked in a weak voice.

“Only God knows if and when we’re going to die, Jenny. I came to tell you how special you are and tell you how happy you’ll be when God takes you to heaven.”

“That’s what our vicar said when my granny died. He said she was happy now.”

“Your vicar was right. Your granny is very happy. And you will be too.”

She looked at him as if she wanted to believe him—was
desperate
to believe him—but wasn’t sure.

He sat in a chair beside the bed. “Have you seen your babe yet?”

“For a minute. She’s awfully tiny. The doctor said she more than likely wouldn’t live either.”

“Have you given her a name?”

She shook her head.

“Have you thought of a name you’d like to give her?”

Jenny nodded. “Rachael. I heard it once in a story from the Bible and thought it was pretty.” She breathed a deep sigh. “I want to call her Rachael.”

“That’s a beautiful name. Would you like me to write her name in God’s book?”

“You mean baptize her?”

Rafe nodded.

“Would you? My granny said that’s what happened when I was baptized. My name got wrote down in God’s book so He’d know who I was when I got to heaven.”

“That’s right, Jenny. He’s waiting for you and so is your granny.”

“I miss her,” Jenny whispered. “Everything changed after she died.”

“Then you’ll be happy because she’s waiting for you.” Rafe stroked his fingers across Jenny’s damp brow. “You’ll be happy forever.”

Jenny was losing strength. The end was drawing nearer. He nodded to Mrs. Rosebury, and she brought the babe over. “Would you like to hold Rachael while we baptize her?”

Jenny nodded, and Mrs. Rosebury placed the babe in Jenny’s arms.

Rafe baptized the babe with clean water from a nearby basin, then let the babe rest in Jenny’s arms. He quoted the comforting parts of scripture until God took Jenny home.

No one moved for a long time. Even after Mrs. Rosebury took the babe from Jenny’s arms, Rafe and Hannah sat with her. Hannah held her hand, and Rafe stroked her cooling forehead. Tears streamed down Hannah’s face, but
she wasn’t the only one who shed tears for the young life that ended far too soon. Tears streamed down Rafe’s face too. Tears he didn’t try to stop. Tears he didn’t try to hide.

The sun rose high in the sky, and he and Hannah still sat there. A maid brought in a tea tray with small sandwiches on it, but neither of them was hungry. And Rafe knew he couldn’t leave until Hannah was ready. They both owed the girl who’d given her life at such a young age to birth a babe who didn’t stand any better chance of living than her mother had.

Finally, Hannah lifted her head and looked at him. With a nod she rose and walked to the door.

He followed.

She walked down the hall, then up another flight of stairs and down a long hallway to another wing of the mansion.

What he noticed first were the sounds coming from a room at the end of the hall. Although the sounds were muffled, Rafe knew they were happy sounds—the sounds of laughter. The gleeful sounds of children at play.

He followed Hannah, and when she stopped at one of the doors, he reached around her to open it. The door swung inward, and Hannah stepped inside. Rafe followed her.

He took one step into the room and stopped.

The room was filled with children—not crowded, not throngs, but many children. There were probably upward of twenty children in the room, from infants a few months old, to toddlers, to youngsters of four and five. In addition, Rafe guessed there were six or eight twelve-to eighteen-year-olds playing with the toddlers and those
older, and six adults caring for the babes and overseeing the rest.

Rafe looked at Hannah and frowned. “Do you run an orphanage too?”

She shook her head. “Not exactly. These are all babes of the girls who were not fortunate enough to escape Skinner before he tossed them out on the street when they became with child. If the babe Rachael survives, she’ll be cared for in this room.”

He studied the children. “What will happen to them?”

“Occasionally, someone comes who wants a child so desperately they’re willing to overlook the child’s parentage. But mostly, all of them will remain and be raised here. They will be fed and clothed and loved unconditionally.”

He followed Hannah as she walked through the room. She picked up all the toddlers and babes and gave them each an equal amount of her attention. Then she sat on the floor where she was surrounded by the older of the children and played with them for several minutes. She eventually rose and walked toward him.

“Are there older children?” he asked.

She nodded and walked to the door.

Rafe followed her to another wing of the mansion. When they turned the corner, she opened the first door they came to. It was a classroom and the children were busy doing problems on a slate.

“These are the five-through eight-year-olds. They are learning to read, write, and do basic numbers. Their instructor is Miss Amanda. We rescued her off the streets when she was fifteen. As she learned, she showed exceptional teaching abilities. When it was time for her to leave
to find a position, she asked to stay.” Hannah pointed to the little boy in the second row. “That is her son, Timothy. She didn’t want to be separated from him, so becoming a teacher at Coventry proved the best solution for them both.”

Rafe looked around the classroom, and his admiration for Hannah overwhelmed him. Before he could say anything, she turned and they left the room. They walked down the hall to the next room, and she opened the door. It was another classroom.

“These are the nine-through twelve-year-olds.” She pointed at the young man standing in the front of the room. “That is Henry. He’s been with us since he was nine.”

“You rescued him too?”

Hannah nodded. “Skinner’s clientele isn’t only interested in young female virgins.”

Rafe felt sick to his stomach. More and more he realized how important Hannah’s work was. More and more he understood her desperation to save as many children as she could before it was too late. More and more he realized how important it was to stop Skinner.

“He instructs the older children and, with the assistance of Rosie and several other adults, makes recommendations as to what position each child should train for when they leave his classroom.”

“Positions?”

“Yes, you might think of it as their
callings
.”

She turned, and Rafe followed her out of the room.

“If we would walk through the rest of the Cottage,” she said as they moved away from the classrooms, “we would find some of the older girls training to be nannies, some training to be maids or housekeepers, some as kitchen
helpers and some as cooks. We train our boys for positions that might be useful for them later on. Some of them work with Higgins in the gardens. Some work with Jeremy in the stables. Some with Danvers in the house as footmen and house servants.”

“How many children do you have here now?”

“There are seventy-six, including the older ones who chose not to leave. There are twelve babes and infants, seventeen to the age of eight, twenty-four to the age of twelve, and twenty-three children twelve and older.”

“How do you manage?”

“Manage?”

“Yes. Feed them all? Clothe them? Find places for them when they’re ready to leave?”

Rafe saw a different side to Hannah, a different side than the Madam Genevieve she pretended to be. It was a side that inspired admiration.

“Actually,” she said, walking down the hallway, “finding posts for the children when they’re ready to leave isn’t that difficult. I have help in that area.”

Rafe placed his arm around Hannah’s waist when he noticed that she stumbled the slightest bit. It had been a long day, a tiring day. He wanted to get her someplace where she could rest for a while—where they could both rest.

He led her to a window seat in an alcove at the end of the hallway and made her sit. He sat beside her. “What help do you have?”

“The Duchess of Raeborn, the Marchioness of Wedgewood, and all their sisters. When any of them hear of a position that needs to be filled, they offer to
assist in finding a suitable candidate. There’s never a shortage of openings for well-trained staff members who come with excellent papers. And all of our children leave here superbly trained and with the highest of recommendations.”

Hannah rubbed her hand over her forehead.

“Are you all right, Hannah?”

She nodded, but Rafe knew she was lying. He placed his arm around her shoulders and sat back against the corner of the window seat. He took her with him and nestled her close to him.

She curled against him and pressed her cheek against his chest.

“Everything will be all right, Hannah love,” he whispered.

They sat together for several long moments. Hannah was the first to break their silence. “What time is it?”