Page 5 of Benefactor to the Baroness (The Seductive Sleuths #3)
W hen Rosemary finally returned to her cottage, the sun was low in the sky, and she felt as if she had aged ten years. She had never been inside a workhouse before, nor had she ever considered what it might be like in such a place. She doubted she would ever forget the guarded expressions of the children in that cramped, dingy room.
It had pained her to leave Annie and the others there. A pain she never would have felt if Lady Kerry hadn’t provoked her into action.
She removed her hat with a sigh. That was being unfair. She couldn’t blame Lady Kerry for what had happened, even if she was daft for allowing Mr. Newton to fleece her. Several hundred pounds for children who didn’t look as if they would survive a fortnight. Mr. Newton should have paid Lady Kerry to take the orphans. It would have saved him the paperwork and hassle of feeding and housing them.
Rosemary rubbed her throbbing temples and trudged into her lushly appointed drawing room. The silk curtains blew gently in the wind from the open window, which had a remarkable view of the grounds and the forest in the distance. In the morning, the sunlight spilled over the trees and painted the sky in a dozen hues. Saffron had asked her to move into the main house several times, but when she was in that house, she felt as if she were intruding. Saffron and her husband, Leo, deserved time to enjoy their lives without Rosemary, practically an old woman, hovering around them.
A gentle rap on the front door made Rosemary turn, but before she had taken two steps, her maid, Nelly, bustled out of the kitchen. The short woman wore a white-and-green-checkered apron over her plain, brown gown and had tucked a frilly, white cap over her mass of curly, brown hair.
“Were you expecting company, madam?” Nelly asked. She removed her apron, then hung it on a peg on the wall.
“Not today,” Rosemary said. The only people who visited her in the cottage were her nieces and their families.
Nelly walked to the door, opened it, then dipped a curtsey. “Lady Briarwood.”
Saffron entered, dressed in a lovely, sapphire, silk day dress. Her long, black hair was braided and piled atop her head, beneath a lace-edged felt hat.
“You returned late from the meeting, Aunt,” Saffron said, clutching her white-gloved hands at her waist. “I was worried.”
That was Saffron, always putting the needs of her family before her own. Knowing her niece, she had sat by the window and fretted for hours. Rosemary’s stomach twisted. She had attended the event to appease her niece but had only made her worry.
“I was waylaid by the Dowager Lady Kerry after the meeting,” Rosemary said. “We had a rather interesting afternoon.”
“Oh?” Saffron leaned forward, her eyes wide. “What did you do?”
Saffron’s tone was nonchalant, but Rosemary recognized the mischievous smile her niece wore. It was the same one she had used nearly fifteen years prior, at the dinner table, before Angelica had come sobbing to Rosemary, claiming that someone had stolen her favorite woolen blanket. The girls had been so jealous of each other in their youth. After that event, Rosemary had taken care to only purchase gifts for the girls in identical sets.
“Nothing of importance,” Rosemary said. She had already worried Saffron enough without revealing that she had visited a workhouse. Her niece likely wouldn’t believe her if she admitted she had interrupted Lady Kerry mid-assault and then had agreed to follow the woman on a mission of charity.
Saffron made a soft sound of derision. “I don’t know why I expected anything else. You would not recognize excitement if it leaped into your lap.”
If Rosemary were a cat, the fur on her hackles would have risen. “As it happens, I spent my afternoon visiting a workhouse in Whitechapel.”
Saffron’s jaw dropped open before she snapped it shut. “You did not venture into Whitechapel.”
Rosemary could barely believe she’d done it herself. She’d made it very clear to Saffron that she disapproved of her niece’s continual involvement in matters that were none of her concern. Supporting charity was a respectable pursuit, but committing a significant amount of money to a single organization was foolish. One would achieve better results by investing one’s time in matters of policy, or convincing other members of the peerage to support their causes. After all, how much could one person accomplish on their own?
She remembered how Lady Kerry had gathered the orphans to her. The dowager baroness had much in common with Saffron; they were both incapable of keeping themselves out of trouble.
“Lady Kerry must be a remarkable woman to have convinced you to join her,” Saffron said with a sly smile.
Rosemary’s cheeks burned, and she could not meet Saffron’s gaze. She felt like a debutante being congratulated for securing her first suitor, as ridiculous as that was. Nothing untoward had happened between herself and Lady Kerry.
“Will you be attending the next meeting?” Saffron asked as she perched on the edge of a horsehair chair, one hand on her stomach. She had not yet fully recovered from the birth of her first child, which worried Rosemary further. It was difficult watching the girl she had raised struggle, especially when she knew further children were nearly guaranteed. She hoped Saffron’s husband understood the trauma that many births had on a woman’s body. The viscount seemed to truly love Saffron. She hoped that meant he would be circumspect.
“I believe I will,” Rosemary said coolly. Then, to avoid hearing her niece speculate, she added, “The children I saw today, you couldn’t even imagine the state they were in. I took one look at them and all I could see was…”
Young Saffron and Angelica huddled together in the center of the living room, staring at Rosemary with enormous eyes. Basil standing in front of them, his tiny fists balled, his lips screwed up as if trying desperately not to cry. The three of them, alone in the world, their parents and grandparents and uncle all dead. How could Rosemary say no when they had no one?
Especially when she had no one, either.
“You remembered taking us in,” Saffron said. “Well, my intent was that you would find someone with whom to spend your time. I suppose that has been accomplished. I hope you won’t be taking any more turns in Whitechapel, though.”
Rosemary huffed. “Not only that, I intend to convince Lady Kerry of the foolishness of her plan. There are many ways to go about improving the lives of orphans in this city without risking one’s own life.”
She would convince the baroness to give up her reckless ventures into dangerous areas of the city and instead focus on making actual change. Between the two of them, they could fundraise enormous sums if they could convince the wealthiest of the ton to support a singular cause. There would be no more masquerading under cloaks, wearing scandalous bloomers.
They could achieve the same means by staying within the safety of their social equals or betters.