Never Less Than a Lady (24 page)

Benjamin looked up at Randall. “I’d like to learn how to fight like you do. Would you teach me?”

Reminding himself that it was normal for boys to have violent impulses, Randall said, “Perhaps someday. Not until you master your temper and prove that you won’t bully people just because you can.”

Benjamin scowled, but in a thoughtful way. Randall continued, “I’ll also stop by the parish church and tell the vicar that you have been claimed by your family.”

“My family,” Benjamin said experimentally. “Tell me about my father.”

Randall’s gaze met Julia’s over the boy’s head. They had discussed this, and agreed that honesty without too many appalling details was best. “That can wait till later. We’re coming into Upton now.”

Randall’s stop at the parish church was brief. The vicar was only mildly interested in the fact that Benjamin Thomas’s family wanted to take him away. No proof was required. The fact that Randall looked prosperous was enough.

As he headed toward the village tavern, he reminded himself that finding the boy was the easy part. Knowing what to do with him would be harder.

After their luncheon, Randall considered finding a cage or box for Miss Kitty, but she seemed content to travel on Benjamin’s lap. The cat had a pretty white face, her huge green eyes set off by a black cap and a comical black circle on her chin. She caused no trouble, though he guessed that the tomcat who ruled Roscombe manor would not be pleased to see her.

On the drive to Roscombe, Julia drew Benjamin into conversation. As he relaxed under her gentle questions, his answers got longer.

Sally Thomas seemed to have been an affectionate mother, and she’d given her son a solid basic education. She’d been barmaid in a posting house, and Benjamin started helping around the kitchen and as a pot boy as soon as he was old enough. Serving travelers of many kinds had broadened his experience, and made him more worldly than if he’d spent his life at Hill Farm.

His ambition had been to become a coachman. Then his mother had died and he’d been handed over to Gault. He’d considered running away, but was intelligent enough to realize that he had no place to go. Especially not with a cat.

Benjamin’s eyes widened when they drove into Roscombe and pulled up by the manor house. He clutched Miss Kitty, not speaking. The groom, Willett, took over the carriage and Randall, Julia, Benjamin, and Miss Kitty went into the house.

“Benjamin, you can put Miss Kitty down now.” Randall said. “She’ll be safe here and she’ll want to explore.”

Benjamin obeyed and his cat set off to look around. With unerring instinct, she headed toward the kitchen even though she’d been fed at the tavern two hours earlier.

Randall continued, “Lady Julia will arrange a room for you. But the first order of business is to get you bathed.”

Benjamin looked appalled. “Don’t need a bath! A basin and a bit of soap will do for me.”

“A bath,” Julia said firmly. “Perhaps in the laundry room? There’s a large tub and it’s close to the kitchen where water can be heated.”

Benjamin started edging away, looking as if he was regretting leaving Hill Farm. “Don’t need a bath!”

“You most certainly do.” Seeing that the boy was on the verge of bolting, Randall caught his arm. The boy flinched and tried to yank himself free.

Guessing what Benjamin was thinking, Randall said pleasantly, “No, I won’t beat you to make you obey, but I have no qualms about using my superior strength to dump you into a laundry tub.” Benjamin stopped struggling to escape, but his breathing was shallow and he looked as if he still expected a blow.

Randall said to Julia, “Have Gordon find some clothes that will fit and bring them to me in the laundry.” Turning to Benjamin, he said, “Cooperate with the bath, and you shall have tea and cakes after. In moderation.”

The bribe worked. Benjamin went down to the laundry tub like Joan of Arc being tied to the stake, but he didn’t fight.

Randall’s mouth tightened when Benjamin stripped, revealing a thin body amply marked with bruises and scars. Randall should have used Gault’s horsewhip on the man.

The bath was a lengthy process, with Randall threatening to scrub the boy with a kitchen brush if he didn’t wash properly. Three tubs of warm water were required to remove all the buried grime. Randall stood guard to prevent him from bolting and suggested places that needed extra washing attention.

After Benjamin dried himself, he donned the outfit Gordon had brought. The garments were loose on his thin frame, but not too bad a fit. When the valet cut Benjamin’s tangled hair, the boy quivered like a nervous pony, but again, he tolerated it.

Randall was increasingly optimistic that the boy had the intelligence to benefit by attending the Westerfield Academy. Washed and decently dressed, he looked downright presentable.

“Now it’s time for the tea and cakes,” Randall said as he escorted Benjamin up the steps to the main floor. “We will join Lady Julia in the morning room.”

“Lady Julia?” Benjamin frowned as he walked alongside Randall.

“My wife is the daughter of the Duke of Castleton,” Randall explained. “It’s a very high rank.”

As they entered the drawing room, Benjamin said, “My mam told me that my father was married to a snobbish girl called Lady Julia.”

“That was me.” Julia glanced up from the tea tray. “Please take seats. I don’t think I was snobbish, Benjamin. Mostly I was young, and had been raised very strictly. How old are you now—about thirteen?”

“Almost.” He stared at her as he sat on the sofa. “In a few weeks.”

“I was sixteen when I married your father.” She poured three cups of tea. “Not much older than you are now.”

Though Julia’s words were true, she’d been a nubile young woman. Benjamin was still a child. Perhaps his growth had been slowed by hunger and ill-use. But some time soon, he’d start shooting up. He would become strong and dangerous. Randall hoped he could be tamed before that happened.

Benjamin accepted his tea rather awkwardly, as if fearing he’d drop the delicate china cup. “My mam said you killed my father.” From his expression, he was having trouble reconciling Julia’s demeanor with the idea that she’d murdered Branford.

Randall said to Julia, “He needs to know. Would you prefer I tell him?”

She shook her head and offered Benjamin the plate of cakes. “Your father was a very difficult man. Somewhat like Mr. Gault.”

The boy frowned. “A drunk?”

“Sometimes, but even when he wasn’t drinking, he could be frightening.” Julia offered the cakes to Randall, and he saw that her hand was trembling.

Randall took over. “Your father could be very clever and charming, Benjamin, but he was a bully. After my parents died, I was sent to live at Turville Park, the family estate, and I shared a nursery with Branford. He was older and larger than I, and he made my life hell,” he said bluntly. “Life was difficult until I went away to school.”

Benjamin stuffed the iced cake in his mouth as if fearing it would be taken away. After he’d swallowed it, he said, “That’s why you killed him, Lady Julia?”

Julia paled, but she didn’t dodge the question. “It was an accident. He was hurting me, and I wanted to get away. I shoved him. He had been drinking, and he lost his balance. He fell and hit his head on the corner of the fireplace.”

“He was like Gault?” After a wary glance, Benjamin took another cake.

“Scary and unpredictable?” she said. “Yes.”

The boy devoured the second cake as quickly as the first. “Sounds like he deserved killing. Sometimes my mam whacked me when I was bad. I didn’t mind that. Knew I deserved it. But someone who hits with no reason—that’s different.” He looked at Randall. “You could have killed Gault easy, but you didn’t.”

“Killing isn’t hard,” Randall said. “But it’s not something to be done lightly.”

Benjamin’s gaze moved back to Julia. “Why did you come looking for me?”

She took a deep breath. “I can’t undo Branford’s death, so I suppose that taking care of his son is a way to make up for that. I needed to know that you were all right.”

Benjamin’s gaze narrowed. “If my mam was alive, would you have taken me away from her?”

“No. Children belong with their mothers. But we would have made sure that you and she were comfortable and lacked for nothing,” Randall said. “I would have paid your school fees.”

The boy made a face. “School again. Why?”

“Because education is the key to a better life. It opens doors.” Randall smiled. “And builds friendships. Most of my best friends are the boys I went to school with.”

“I had friends in the village when I lived with my mam,” Benjamin said belligerently. “Weren’t nobody my age at Hill Farm.”

“Then you might like school.” Julia moved the cake plate out of Benjamin’s reach before he could take a fifth cake.

Benjamin regarded the cakes longingly but didn’t reach for another. “What school would I go to?”

“I’d like to send you to the Westerfield Academy,” Randall said. “It’s my old school, and a good place for boys who are a little different.”

“You want me to go to
your
school?” Benjamin said, surprised. “How were you different?”

“I was stubborn and bad-tempered.” Randall guessed Benjamin had trouble imagining that an adult who looked expensive and confident had been a problem child. “Remember how you asked if I would teach you how to fight like I do?”

After Benjamin nodded, Randall said, “You can learn that at the Westerfield Academy. The very first student at the school was the Duke of Ashton, who is half Hindu, and he was skilled in the Indian fighting skill of
Kalarippayattu
. He taught his classmates so he would have other boys to practice with.
Kalarippayattu
has become a school tradition, with older boys teaching younger ones once they are thought ready.”

“I’d like that,” Benjamin said cautiously. “But…will I be living at the school all the time?”

“No, you’ll spend the holidays here at Roscombe.” Randall was amazed at how naturally he made such a sweeping promise to Branford’s son.

Ben looked as if he wanted to believe, but wasn’t yet sure. That would take time. Randall continued, “We need to go to London next week so Lady Agnes Westerfield can interview you for her school.”

“London!” Benjamin breathed. “I’m really going to London?”

Randall nodded. “Assuming that Lady Agnes accepts you, we’ll have about a week to holiday in London. See the lions, visit Astley’s circus, get new clothes made up. But there is one other task to accomplish.” He glanced at Julia, who gave a small nod. “We have to introduce you to your grandfather, the Earl of Daventry.”

Benjamin frowned. “An earl? Isn’t that very grand?”

“Yes, almost as grand as a duke,” Julia said with a hint of dryness.

“Will he want to know me since I’m a bastard?” Benjamin said, worried.

“I don’t know,” Randall admitted. “Daventry cares a great deal about family, and it has been a sorrow to him that he has no surviving children. I don’t believe that Branford ever told him of your birth. Daventry is…not an easy man, but I’m sure that he would have provided for you if he’d known of your existence.”

“Might it be better to write Daventry instead of taking Benjamin to meet him?” Julia bit her lip. “With Lady Daventry close to her lying in, Daventry will be distracted.”

“I wondered about that, but I think it’s best if they meet,” Randall said. “When they do, Daventry will immediately know that Benjamin is his grandson.”

Julia nodded, but still looked worried. So was Randall. But withholding knowledge of Branford’s son would make Daventry even more furious when he finally found out. Better to make the introduction as soon as possible. And if Daventry rejected the boy, no matter. Benjamin had a home now.

Returning from her explorations, Miss Kitty entered the morning room, plumy tail waving. She made her way to Benjamin and draped herself over his feet.

“She’s very well behaved,” Julia observed.

Belligerent again, Benjamin said, “She always sleeps with me.”

“I’m sure you both enjoy it,” Randall said. “When I was serving in Portugal, I was adopted by a dog who slept with me every night. Santa Cruz was good company. He was also warm on cold nights.”

Julia laughed. “I didn’t know that. Why was the dog called Holy Cross, and what happened to him?”

“I considered him my cross to bear,” Randall explained. “When I was wounded and sent home to England, Santa Cruz transferred his affections to an ensign in my regiment. I’m told that ensign and dog are flourishing.”

Benjamin giggled, sounding like a child for the first time since they’d found him.

The Roscombe tomcat strolled into the room. He was smaller than Miss Kitty, but he made up for that in arrogance. Randall said, “This is Reggie T. Cat, who mostly lives in the kitchen. I hope that he and Miss Kitty can negotiate a truce.”

Reggie spotted Miss Kitty. Looking joyful, he swaggered toward her. His dreams of dominance vanished when she couched down and glared at him, fur fluffing up so much that she looked like a small black-and-white sheep.

When she growled with chilling intensity, Reggie stopped dead in his tracks. Then he hunkered down in a pose that mirrored hers as they stared at each other.

Randall had no idea what silent messages were being passed, but the duel ended when Reggie warily touched his nose to Miss Kitty’s. Then he ambled out of the room, tail high, looking as if he’d lost a fight and didn’t want to admit it.

“Cat politics in action,” Julia said with a laugh. “I hope that means they won’t fight in the middle of the night.”

Benjamin swallowed the last of his tea and stood. “Can I go now? I want to take Miss Kitty to my room so she’ll know where it is.”

“Of course,” Julia said.

He scooped up the cat and exited. When he was gone, Julia asked, “What do you think of our wild child?”

“He’ll do,” Randall said thoughtfully. “He’s a tough little devil, but he doesn’t seem to have Branford’s craziness. I met Branford when he was even younger than Benjamin, and it was already obvious that something was wrong with him. Benjamin has rough edges. He’s wary, and with reason, but he’s not crazy. He’s clever enough to appreciate how much his situation has improved, and he wants to preserve that. Given education and opportunities, I think he’ll turn out well.”

“More like you than your cousin, in other words,” Julia said.

Is that how she saw him? The strain that had been between them had eased, Randall realized. “I suppose. I’m sure Lady Agnes will be willing to take him on. A few days here, and then we can take him to London to meet her.”

Julia smiled. “She will turn him into a proper young gentleman in no time.”

“Perhaps not quite a gentleman.” He smiled back. “But close enough.”

One of the housemaids who had young brothers volunteered to look after Benjamin, who was too old for a nursery maid but needed instruction on how to live in a proper household. Julia wasn’t surprised to learn that at Hill Farm, the boy had slept in the barn on a pile of hay with a blanket and Miss Kitty.

Benjamin had had a tiring day, so Julia sent him to bed immediately after dinner. He didn’t even argue, which was most unlike a young boy and proved he was tired.