JORDAN Nicole (41 page)

The boy swallowed hard. “No, your grace.”

“Then what do you think your punishment should be?”

Drew waited, his sharp green gaze steady, while Benjamin remained silent.

Roslyn found herself biting her lip in consternation. The boy didn’t deserve to hang, and she couldn’t bear the thought of him being locked away in prison, especially when he was the sole provider for his mother and young sisters. But that was what would happen if Winifred brought charges of thievery against him. From the look of fear on his face, Benjamin was aware of the consequences, as well.

“I do not know, your grace,” he finally said. “Perhaps I should hang.”

With another anguished sob, Constance held out an imploring hand. “No…please, I beg you, your grace…you cannot hang my son,I beg you ….”

Drew cast her a softer glance. “He will not hang, Mrs. Baines.”

Her sobs arrested. “Then…what will you do?”

“I have not yet decided.” When he met Roslyn’s gaze, she understood his dilemma. They couldn’t punish the boy as he deserved, but neither could they simply walk away. Nor could they determine his fate on their own. Winifred would certainly have to be part of the decision.

“I think,” Roslyn said quietly, “that we will have to discuss the matter with Lady Freemantle. Perhaps she can be persuaded not to prosecute.”

When Drew nodded slightly in agreement, Roslyn let out a relieved breath. It was indeed possible they could persuade the kindhearted Winifred to overlook Benjamin’s crimes. And in the meantime, he was unlikely to flee to avoid arrest as long as his mother and sisters needed him so desperately. And if he did flee…it would not serve justice, but Roslyn could accept that outcome.

“Thank you, Miss Loring,” Constance murmured gratefully as, with an exhausted sigh, she lay back and shut her eyes. The trauma had sapped what little strength she had.

Turning to bend over his mother, Benjamin clasped her hand tightly. “Please, your grace…Miss Loring,” he said over his shoulder, only this time making it a request. “You need to leave. You can arrest me if you want, but leave my mother alone. She had naught to do with my attempted thefts, and she is too ill to be subjected to further distress.”

Knowing he was right, Roslyn reached into her reticule and drew out all the money she had with her—three guineas and several shillings and pence—and held the coins out to Benjamin. “Here, this should allow you to send for a doctor.”

“No,” Drew intervened, “I will have a physician attend Mrs. Baines this afternoon.”

Roslyn nodded in relief, knowing Drew would be able to command the best possible care for the sick woman. But she continued to hold out the money. “Take this, Benjamin. You can use it to buy food for your mother and sisters.”

Benjamin’s mouth dropped open, but he refused to accept her offering, out of pride, she suspected. “Th-thank you, Miss Loring…but we do not want your charity.” He glanced down at his mother. “I brought you a mutton pie, Mama, and some bread and cheese for the girls.” Then he lifted his gaze again. “I can take care of my family.”

Drew stepped in again, taking Roslyn’s money and laying it on the bedside table. “You will accept it as a loan then, lad, until you get the funds that rightfully belong to you.”

“Funds?” Constance whispered.

“I intend to deal with Farnaby and ensure that Sir Rupert’s bequest to you is finally awarded, Mrs. Baines.”

Benjamin’s jaw dropped open, while Constance burst into tears, much to the alarm of her son. He looked at them frantically, clearly imploring them to leave the room, but his mother managed to find her voice.

“Thank you, your grace…I don’t care for myself…but my girls…my children…”

“Don’t concern yourself any longer, Mrs. Baines,” he answered. “You have my word that they will be cared for. For now you need to rest. We will show ourselves out.”

When Roslyn and Drew left the bedchamber, they found Constance’s young daughters huddled together in a chair, looking fearful. But both girls leapt to their feet and proffered polite curtsies. They had obviously been taught exquisite manners by their mother, despite their dire circumstances.

“Your mama is resting now,” Roslyn said softly. “But a doctor will be here shortly to try and help her get well.”

Their faces brightened a little before they scurried toward the bedchamber and tiptoed inside.

Sadness tugging at her heart, Roslyn remained silent until she and Drew were alone in the corridor. “We have to tell Winifred,” she said then. “As much as I regret having to cause her pain, she will want to know about Benjamin.”

“I’ll accompany you to Freemantle Park,” Drew responded, “and we will tell her together.”

When they reached the street, he sent his tiger home with his curricle, along with instructions for his secretary to have his personal physician be brought here at once to attend Mrs. Baines’s sickbed. After ordering to his coachman to take them to Chiswick, Drew handed Roslyn inside the carriage and climbed in to sit across from her.

“Did you mean it, Drew?” she asked once they were moving. “You will take on Farnaby and make him pay Mrs. Baines what he owes her?”

Drew’s jaw hardened. “It will be my great pleasure.”

“I hope it will be soon so she can move to better lodgings. She will die if she continues to suffer those appalling conditions.” Roslyn grimaced at the recollection. “I mean to have the Simpkins bring them some nourishing meals, and perhaps clean the lane of that stench.”

“Let my servants handle it,” Drew said tersely. “Mine are much closer, and it would be inconvenient for yours to come such a distance.”

“Thank you. That is very kind of you.”

“It isn’t kindness. Merely justice.”

Roslyn fell awkwardly silent, realizing that this was the first time she had been alone with Drew since their angry parting. But judging from his stony features, she was right to think that he was relieved to be freed from their betrothal.

There was nothing loverlike at all about his demeanor. Indeed his expression was grim, even angry. Perhaps because he was contemplating how he would compel the crooked solicitor to honor his obligations.

Roslyn was grateful to Drew for his involvement and glad he would be there with her to break the distressing news to Winifred, even if she regretted having to make the drive to the country in his company.

When she caught his gaze focused on her, however, Roslyn shifted hers away to stare out the window. She wouldn’t think about Drew now. Not when she should be determining what to say to Winifred.

Perhaps she should ask her friend to return the brooch to Constance. She hadn’t mentioned the idea earlier, so as not to raise any false hopes. But it would mean a great deal to Constance and provide a small measure of consolation if she was dying of her grave illness.

Roslyn felt her throat tighten as she thought of the woman’s terrible plight. Yet it hadn’t always been that way. Indeed, some of her past was enviable. Perhaps Constance had not had a legitimate marriage with Sir Rupert, but she had known the joy of true love. And she had three children whom she clearly cherished and who cherished her.

Something Roslyn herself might never have.

Realizing how selfish it was to wallow in self-pity at a time like this, Roslyn forcibly swallowed the ache in her throat. Yet she couldn’t help but be reminded of her long-held belief.

Constance’s sad story was just more proof that men generally loved their mistresses, not their wives—although she was not about to interrupt Drew’s grim silence to point out that distressing truth to him.

Chapter Nineteen

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My heart breaks to see Winifred’s pain. How agonizing it must be for her to have loved so deeply when her love was never returned. It is the thing I fear most with Arden.

—Roslyn to Fanny

“Twodaughters?” Lady Freemantle repeated in a stricken voice when she had heard the entire tale. “In addition to a son?”

The size of Sir Rupert’s secret family seemed to shock her more than confirmation that his illegitimate son had threatened to steal her jewels at gunpoint.

Drew watched as Roslyn put a comforting arm around her friend. “I am so sorry, Winifred,” Roslyn murmured. “But we thought you would wish to know the truth.”

“Y-yes…I do. But ’tis a blow to know what…that woman did for him when I could not. She bore himthree children….”

Mutely Lady Freemantle bit her lower lip, striving to hold back tears. It was clear she was bitterly hurt to have such blatant proof of her husband’s betrayal—and his mistress’s fertility. Her hand clutched at her heart. “Faith, how could I not have known all those years?”

Roslyn tightened her arm around the older lady’s shoulders. “I’m certain Sir Rupert didn’t want to distress you by flaunting the circumstances.”

After a long moment, Drew broke the silence. “We need to decide how to deal with the boy, my lady. Do you wish to lay charges against Benjamin Baines for robbery?”

She glanced up at him, still looking dazed. “No…I could never…he is Rupert’s son. I couldn’t send him to prison.”

Drew gave a faint nod. “I thought you might feel that way, but even so, he must be made to see how wrong he was so that he won’t repeat his crimes.”

“Indeed he does, your grace, but he shouldn’t be punished with prison. I could never be so cruel.”

“What about the brooch with Sir Rupert’s likeness?” Roslyn asked quietly.

Lady Freemantle shifted her gaze. “You think I should return it to that woman…Constance is her name?”

“It would be a great kindness, Winifred. She may not survive her illness, and his portrait may give her consolation in her last days.”

Her ladyship drew a shuddering breath. “I fancy it is hers rightfully. She should have it, especially if she is dying.”

It had been kind of Roslyn to suggest returning the brooch, Drew reflected to himself—yet one more indication of her compassion. The sharp contrast with his mother struck him anew. He couldn’t picture the duchess putting herself out for anyone, certainly not performing a kindness for her late husband’s ill mistress and by-blows. The very idea would have been utter anathema.

He was rather surprised, however, that Roslyn’s generosity of spirit was shared by Lady Freemantle. Unexpectedly, her ladyship swallowed her tears and announced, “I’ll deliver the brooch to Constance myself. I want to see Benjamin, in any case—and his young sisters also.”

Roslyn hesitated. “Are you certain that is a good idea, Winifred?”

Steeling her spine, she sat up straighter. “Yes, I am certain. They are Rupert’s flesh and blood…all I have left of my husband. I can’t turn my back on them. Yes,” she argued with herself, “I must see to their welfare. It would be heartless to let Rupert’s children starve.” Suddenly her brow furrowed. “If Constance dies, what will happen to the children? I will have to care for them myself then,” she replied, answering her own question. “Fact is, I should take them in now….”

“Winifred,” Roslyn said gently, “if Constance pulls through, I don’t believe she could bear to let her children go.”

Her ladyship’s voice trembled. “But I can provide for them far better than she can.”

“You cannot ask her to turn her children over to you. They are allshe has.”

“Yes…you are right,” Lady Freemantle said sorrowfully before brightening a little. “I know…they canall come here to live at the Park with me. This house is immense—there is ample room for three children and their mother.”

Roslyn continued to withhold her enthusiasm. “You shouldn’t rush to make any decisions just now, Winifred. You have only just now learned of their existence. And Constance may have other plans if she recovers the funds due her.”

“Yes, of course I should speak to Constance first.” Lady Freemantle’s frown deepened. “Then again…if she’s a genteel lady, she may not care to associate with someone of my low origins.”

“I don’t believe she is like that,” Roslyn said quickly. “And I expect she would be grateful for your help. But I am thinking of you, dearest. Taking in an entire family, especially one who may bring you painful memories, is a large undertaking. You need to give it careful consideration.”

She dashed at her moist eyes. “Ihave considered it, Roslyn. This is something I must do. I feel sure ’tis what Rupert would have wanted.” Her mouth twisted ironically. “I should be angry with him for his adultery, I know, but the children aren’t to blame for his sin. And no matter what he did, I loved him.”

Roslyn’s expression softened. “I’m certain Sir Rupert loved you more than you realize.”

Sniffing, Winifred looked wistful. “He might have loved me if his heart hadn’t already been taken.” She smiled bravely. “But now I’ll have his children to love. I always wanted children. I only pray Constance will be willing to share them with me.”

“I think perhaps she might. She will certainly see the advantages of your support, and she seems to be the kind of mother who would do anything for her children.”

Lady Freemantle nodded to herself. “Really, there’s no need to wait. Constance should come here at once. She will recuperate much better here at the Park.”

Drew intervened. “She may be too ill to be moved, my lady. My physician should make that judgment.”

“When she recovers, then. Or sooner, if your physician deems it safe. I shall bring Constance and the children here, if she is willing.” She glanced imploringly at Drew. “Will you help me arrange it, your grace?”

“If you gain her agreement, then yes, of course. I’ll assist in any way I can, my lady. And I will escort you to see Constance now, if you wish.”

“I do wish.Thank you, your grace. You are prodigiously kind.”

Smiling mistily, Roslyn wrapped her arms around the older woman. “It isyou who is kind, Winifred. You are the best, kindest person I know.”

“Pah, you would have done the same, were you in my place—” She faltered, shooting another brief glance at Drew. “But then you would never have found yourself in my place, dear.”

Rising abruptly, Lady Freemantle suddenly resumed her usual cheerful, managing style. “If you will give me a moment, your grace, I’ll just run up to my rooms and fetch my…the brooch. And I must speak to Pointon to arrange rooms in case Constance can be moved. And Cook must prepare a proper supper for the children, of course….”