Page 43 of The Gentlewoman Companion (The Gentlewoman #4)

Chapter Twenty

A spare room had been cleared to make way for a nursery where a child-sized table for tea-taking, two tiny beds, and a few books and toys filled the space.

James watched Susan toddle after the kitchen cat she’d taken a fancy to.

The cat evaded her attempts to catch it, but Susan was undeterred.

Her little tongue poked from the side of her mouth, and each time she got close enough to touch the animal, she giggled.

Taxing as the previous night had been, he felt useful and connected to Susan for the first time.

She deserved to be with her brother, safe in a home with two parents who loved her.

Having made the mistake of telling his staff that Margaret was a relation of his vicar, Mr. and Mrs. Kent were on his mind.

He wrote them, a childless couple, and asked if they would be interested in fostering Susan and Tom.

There had not been sufficient time to receive a response, so he fretted and wondered if he ought to hire someone to care for Susan and Samuel.

How would it be to have a wife—one with clever ideas and mischievous eyes—to shoulder this burden?

“Watch!” Samuel said from the floor where he spun a top. “It’ll go for an hour.”

“You have the knack of it.” For all the trouble they caused, he never questioned his decision to seek out and provide for Margaret and Samuel.

They were a joy.

The thought stunned him, even as pride swelled for Margaret’s strength and resourcefulness in caring for herself and their brother, or when Samuel’s clammy little hand slipped into his.

“I am back.” Margaret stepped into the room. She had left him there to return with a basket of mending.

James offered her the only full-sized chair in the room. When she refused, he sat next to her on the floor.

“I’ve been thinking,” he told her.

“What plan have you now? Buy us a cottage and send us a monthly stipend?” She laughed as though the idea were preposterous.

“Would you allow it?”

“Of course not.” She had explained her need to provide for herself, but he still did not understand it.

“We are family, Margaret. Our father owes you a life as free from worry as possible.”

“That is a droll fancy. If I waited to receive everything owed me, I’d be starving in a ditch. We can keep ourselves and live among people of our own class.”

“And risk Samuel getting ill again? He has a bright mind and requires an education you cannot afford. You may refuse my help, but would you deny your brother? You may resume your role as a housemaid, if you wish—I am sure we can come up with a story—but Samuel must go to school.”

“I don’t want to be a housemaid!” She brought her fist to the floor, eyes flashing. The children stopped their play and watched with fleeting interest.

What was he missing? “Not a housemaid, then. What?”

“I enjoyed my position as a seamstress.”

“I watched you hunch over a single, dim candle stitching and stitching with Samuel coughing in the other room. I cannot send you, my own sister, back to that.”

“Sister?”

Had her voice quavered? She was so stoic, he couldn’t be certain.

“Sister,” he said firmly. “I am not your father and have no jurisdiction over you.” He thought of Louisa and the ill-begotten plan her father had hatched for her marriage.

“Even if I had, I could never claim to know what is best for you. Tell me, Margaret, how can I help you?”

“Meg.” She lifted her chin and arched her head away from him. Allowing him to call her a nickname was no meaningless gesture, however nonchalantly she chose to treat it.

“Meg.” He paused to give the nickname proper weight. “Samuel has been better for some time. Why have you stayed?”

Her glance was sharp. “Curiosity, I suppose. I knew little of my father, nothing about his life. And once I was here, I became interested in my older brother.” Older brother . How those words struck his soul. She squared her shoulders. “But I am not here for money.”

James glanced around the nursery, a place he’d never imagined he would be.

He was with his brother and sister, connections he’d never dreamed of having.

Yet, they gave him more purpose than anything he’d done before.

“I value our relationship and am determined to remain connected to you and Samuel all my life. I beg you to understand I have enough resources for whatever life you aspire to. Make a request. Nothing you ask would be too much.”

She took in a deep breath. “I want to be a mantua maker.”

“A dressmaker?”

“Yes, with my own shop one day.”

“Then you shall have it.”

She was chewing her lip again.

“Yes?” he asked.

“I’ve been mending Lady Halverton’s clothes. Her tailor is extremely talented. I wish to apprentice to him.”

James felt a smile creep across his face. “It pained you to ask.”

“The hardest words I’ve ever said.” She smiled back at him, a grin that transformed her solemn face into something brilliant. “You do realize the tailors’ guild does not allow female apprenticeships. You will have to convince him to take me.”

“Consider it done. And I will set up a trust. Your inheritance.”

She frowned. “We can discuss that later. In the meantime, Samuel and I cannot remain in Grosvenor Square. However beautiful this home, it is not comfortable to us.”

“I hope to find Tom within the week. After that…would you agree to settle in Stroud, close to my estate? We will find lodgings close to your apprenticeship.” Leaving town to establish his siblings in the country meant leaving Louisa, but she and his mother would not remain in London forever.

However painful the separation, he must see to his siblings.

Meg was correct. Their presence was untenable.

Margaret nodded slowly. “I’ve never seen the countryside and may not like it, but it is sensible to move for an apprenticeship. What will we do if the boy is not found?”

“We cannot wait upon that. I will settle my affairs here by the time the search’s deadline arrives—which reminds me…” He hesitated. “I wrote a petition, asking for wardship of you and Samuel. Will you allow me to send it?”

She glanced at Samuel, her face softening. “So long as I agree to the terms.”

James left the room a great deal less burdened. His siblings deserved stability, and he could not be easy until their needs were met. Susan would benefit from country air and a mother’s attention. He must prioritize them.

But Louisa.

Since holding her in his arms, he could not remember what scruples had kept him from declaring himself. Whatever their struggles, they could meet them better together. If they were engaged, they might write during the months apart.

He left the nursery in search of Louisa, not to propose—though he had half a mind to—but to tell her of the progress he’d made with Meg. His mother was alone in the drawing room.

“Looking for Louisa?” she asked.

He started.

She laughed. “Children imagine their parents are daft. Louisa is bidding farewell to her brother.”

“She didn’t tell me.” His chest tightened. “And before we could meet him? A pity.” There was so much she kept from him.

“I have a list of errands I intended for Louisa, but she may not return before evening. Are you willing to complete them? I trust no one else.”

If he went out, he could stop at Bow Street for news and take his petition to Chancery in person.

“Of course. And Mother, I should inform you that I’m taking Margaret and Samuel with me to Stroud at week’s end.

It seems she wants to be a mantua maker, and I promised to obtain her an apprenticeship. ”

She went to him and took both his hands.

“I chastised you for choosing to stay out of the House, but you chose the more important stewardship. I honor your principles.” She patted his cheek.

“Now, here is the list, and it must be done, for tomorrow I host the salon.” She sung the last words in delighted notes.

“London suits you,” he said.

“Had I known what I was missing, I might have ignored the pride that kept me away.”

He winced.

“Forgive me; that was callous. I forget how fresh your wound is.”

“I suppose it helps to see you’ve become at peace with it.”

“Never at peace. But I did nothing wrong, and as I move forward, choosing not to let the betrayal hinder me, it has loosened its grip.”

James considered her words: had he let his father’s misdeeds hinder him?

While James had taken steps to disconnect himself from his father’s disloyalty, he was not so resolved as his mother to move in his expected circles.

Attending parliament still felt wrong, but in time he might find healing as his mother had.

J ames travelled through London, stopping at the haberdashery to collect his mother’s order, the milliner for a hat, even a warehouse from which his mother had somehow managed to order a Meissen tea service. He spoke with Mr. Fielding, who had no news of Tom, and delivered the petition to Chancery.

He arrived at his final stop, Gerrard’s, a jeweler where his mother had a ring repaired that she “simply must” have for the salon. He’d saved this errand for last, as it was only a few minutes from Grosvenor Square.

“Good day, Mr. Schmidt.” James had purchased a new pocket watch from Mr. Schmidt and was acquainted with the shop. “I am on an errand for my mother.”

“How do you do, my lord. One moment.” The man disappeared and returned with a box. “Can I help you further?”

James popped open the box to examine the ring. His mother would not be pleased if the prongs were still loose. “That is all. Thank you.” As he turned, his eyes snagged on a familiar brooch. Looking closer, he was certain. Or perhaps there was more than one of its kind? “That is a fine piece.”

“Rare workmanship, unparalleled quality. One does not come by such a rarity often.”

“May I look at it?”

“Of course, my lord. I received it at a discount that I can pass on to you.”

James examined the piece and became certain it was the same that so often ornamented Louisa. Its presence in the shop was proof that something was indeed wrong. Had it to do with her brother? Was this evidence that her family had financial difficulty? If so, why had she never told him?

“Can you tell me from whom you acquired the brooch?”

“One is often charged with discretion. I should not like to part with my reputation. I am sure you understand.”

“You know nothing of its history?”

“Only what I can see. It is old, perhaps over a century. And that diamond.” He whistled through his teeth. “One of a kind.”

One of a kind—it must be Louisa’s. He could only guess at why she had sold it, but he could not bear to leave it in the shop to fall into someone else’s hands when she obviously valued it. “I shall take it with me and send a note to my bank to settle the account.”

James rushed home with his purchase but found neither his mother nor Louisa. When he applied to the housekeeper, Mrs. Corfield told him they had left to see the Trelawneys.

What sort of trouble had Louisa found? Why hadn’t she applied to him? Therein lay the sting. Regardless of their intimacy, she would not confide in him.

Over the course of the evening and the day that followed, he had no opportunity to speak with Louisa. She and his mother busied themselves with flowers and last-minute errands for the salon. He locked the brooch away for another time and tried to apply himself to other matters.