Love With the Proper Husband (10 page)

“We can’t steal food.” Patience stared at her sister. “That would be a sin.”

“We’d go to hell,” Hope said matter-of-factly.

“Stealing food when you’re hungry is not really a sin.” In spite of the firm note in Charity’s voice, Gwen suspected she too was uneasy at the idea of deliberate sin. “We shall be fine, and when we get to the Friendly Islands we can live on fish.”

Patience nodded. “We do like fish.”

“But not all the time.” Hope wrinkled her nose.

“I see,” Gwen said slowly. “You seem to have given this a great deal of thought. I suppose I should wish you well, then. And do try not to get caught.” She shook her head in a forlorn manner. “I dare not think what would happen to you should you get caught.”

Suspicion pulled Charity’s brows together. “What would happen?”

“Well, when I was on board ship, I heard whenever they caught stowaways they would”—Gwen paused dramatically for added effect—“throw them into the sea.”

A collective gasp went up.

Charity scoffed. “I don’t believe you.”

The two younger girls exchanged glances and Gwen pressed her point home. “Well, of course I could be mistaken. It’s simply what I was told while I was on board ship. It could have been nothing but a seaman’s tale told for the entertainment of naïve travelers. Yes, I’m certain it was nothing more than that.

“Of course”—she thought for a moment—“I have never seen a stowaway for myself, which is probably due more to the fact that most people do not choose to travel in that manner and not to the possibility that those that do end up as food for sea creatures.” Gwen smiled pleasantly, as though the idea of being food for sea creatures was not the least bit terrifying to anyone, let alone three potential stowaways.

“You don’t scare us in the least. I daresay we would never get caught. I would make certain of it.”

Charity looked from Patience to Hope and back to Gwen. “Admittedly we’re not ready to go quite yet. We don’t know everything. We are still making plans. And we are extremely flexible. Perhaps we won’t even go to the Friendly Islands after all. Perhaps we shall simply go to London. I can’t imagine it would be all that difficult to get to London from here.”

“Not at all. It’s a scant few hours away. What an excellent idea.” Gwen nodded. “London is a wonderful place. The school I attended as a girl is in London, although it’s been closed for some time now. In fact, I am staying in London with a lady who was a teacher of mine. Where will you reside when you get to London?” She widened her eyes innocently.

Patience shook her head. “We don’t know.”

Hope shrugged. “Haven’t any idea.”

“I told you we are not yet ready to go,” Charity snapped. “I will determine where we shall stay when the time comes.”

“Of course you will. You do strike me as an extremely competent young woman.” Gwen cast her a pleasant smile and was gratified to see the tension in the girl’s face ease slightly. “Still”—Gwen shook her head regretfully—“without money you shall be forced to sleep out of doors, in the alleys, or perhaps you might find a stable.”

“With horses?” Patience’s eyes lit.

“And dogs?” Hope said eagerly. “What fun.”

“Indeed.” Gwen nodded. “Of course stables do tend to attract other, less desirable creatures, but surely that won’t bother you.”

“What kind of creatures?” Apprehension sounded in Hope’s voice.

“Oh you know, the usual sort of thing,” Gwen said blithely. “Mice at the very least and I should think rats—”

“Then we shall sleep outside,” Patience said quickly.

“Certainly you could but”—Gwen drew her brows together—“well, there are rats outside as well. And all manner of unpleasant people.” Gwen shook her head. “No, I don’t think that will do. The best answer is for you all to get some kind of employment. Perhaps as house or scullery maids.”

“That was my plan all along.” Charity smirked.

Patience and Hope traded uneasy glances. Patience met Gwen’s gaze. “Aren’t we a bit young for that?”

“Indeed you are, but”—Gwen heaved a heavy sigh—“I’m afraid we are back to that same question of money. Without it, one has very few options. Why, I myself had to face being without funds when I was scarcely older than Charity. It’s not at all pleasant.”

Hope frowned. “Then what are we to do?”

“We could come live with you.” Challenge rang in Charity’s eyes, and her unflinching gaze met Gwen’s.

From the moment Gwen had turned and stepped back into the room—no—from the moment she’

d heard that never forgotten note in Hope’s voice, she knew it would come to this. And knew as well it was the right thing—the only thing—to do. These girls were all the family Gwen had left in the world. Her nieces had lost so much already, how could Gwen allow them to lose one another? Besides, how could she let any girls—let alone these girls—grow up knowing they weren’t especially wanted? Grow up as Gwen had.

“Indeed you could.” Gwen’s gaze never left Charity’s. “Although I cannot guarantee how we shall get along.”

Patience snorted. “We shall certainly get along better with you than we do with Pickleface.”

“We should get along better with
anyone
than we do with Pickleface,” Hope said pointedly.

“Well then…” Gwen drew a deep breath, wondering how someone who did not especially like children now had three in her keeping. Forever. “It is decided.”

“Wonderful,” Patience said with a wide grin.

“We shall have a grand life together.” Hope beamed. “And perhaps we could have a dog as well.”

“Do not think this means we are going to like you.” The relief in her eyes belied the note in Charity

’s voice.

“It doesn’t?” Hope’s brow furrowed. “Not even a little?”

“Not at all,” Charity said.

“You cannot tell me what to do just because you’re the oldest.” Patience glared at her sister. “I shall like her if I want to, and you can’t stop me.” She shot an apologetic glance at Gwen. “Not that I intend to, you understand.”

“It’s really not necessary to like me,” Gwen said quickly. “I understand completely.” Of course she did. The girls had felt abandoned by her and she could not fault their resentment.

“We shall, however, feel a certain amount of gratitude toward you,” Charity said grudgingly. “And we shall endeavor not to be rude or impolite.”

Gwen nodded. “I can ask for nothing more.”

“In return…” Charity straightened her shoulders. “We shall not expect you to like us.”

“I expect her to like me,” Patience murmured.

“Everyone has always liked me,” Hope said under her breath.

“That seems entirely fair. However…” Gwen thought for a moment. “I do reserve the right to like you should that unlikely event occur.”

Hope and Patience shared smug smiles, and Gwen was hard-pressed to stifle her own. “Is it agreed, then?”

Charity nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“Excellent.” Gwen nodded with satisfaction.

Her gaze slid from one girl to the next, and the oddest sense of affection stirred within her. She’d never felt anything near affection for children before. Of course, she’d never been around children that were, for all intents and purposes, hers. Perhaps that was the difference. She’d certainly treated them differently. Abruptly Gwen realized that, except for the first few minutes, she hadn’t really treated them as she’d always treated children. She’d treated them more like, well, people. People she might possibly, in spite of herself, care about. The strangest idea popped into her head that perhaps this would be as much a solution for her as for them.

Raising her nieces would give her future purpose. Certainly she hadn’t been much of a governess, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be an acceptable aunt. Why, wasn’t she already off to an excellent start? Saving them from the separation planned by the wicked Pickleface? Rescuing them from the need to run away and possibly be tossed into the ocean as food for fish? Or eaten by rats in the gutters?

They would indeed have a lovely life together. Gwen would make certain they never felt unwanted or unworthy or unnecessary. She would provide them with an excellent education, and when they were old enough, give them the season she’d never had. Not specifically with an eye toward marriage, but that would be entirely up to them. Who they married and whether they married at all would be their choice. She would make sure of it. It would simply take determination and dedication and…money. She sucked in a hard breath.

“Have you changed your mind?” Hope said with concern.

Charity frowned. “You look rather ill.”

“Like you’re going to lose your dinner.” Patience peered at her closely.

“No, no I’m fine. Of course I haven’t changed my mind.” Gwen smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring manner but her heart had plummeted to the pit of her stomach, and Patience’s concern wasn’t at all farfetched. “Indeed, we should be off as soon as possible. Get your things together and I will speak to Pic—Miss Hilliard.”

“Are you sure?” Patience said, apprehension pulling her brows together. Any second thoughts Gwen might have had were swept away by the look on Patience’s face, and the identical look on Hope’s and even Charity’s. “I have never been so sure of anything before.” She rose to her feet. “Go on now. And do hurry.”

Patience and Hope leaped up from the sofa and raced from the room. Charity too started toward the door, then stopped and turned to Gwen.

“We really are grateful,” she said with a slight nod, then turned back and followed after her sisters. These girls needed her, Charity perhaps most of all. It must be exceedingly difficult to try to start a new life at her age with two sisters to care for. It had been exceedingly difficult for Gwen, who had been both older and unencumbered when she had found herself on her own. No one had needed her before. How different her life might have been if someone had.

“Take care, Charity,” Gwen said softly. “You may find yourself liking me in spite of your best intentions. And I may well like you. Quite a lot.”

She smiled after the girl, then drew a deep breath. It was all very well to conjure dreams of the future out of thin air, but real plans had to be made.

The legacy her father had left her would take care of her own needs and, in truth, she’d been dependent on wages for so long, simply not having to work for the money was a luxury in itself. But realistically, it was not overly substantial. And while it would provide nicely for one person and perhaps two extremely thrifty people, it certainly would amount to only bare survival for four. It would take a great deal of money to support a family of four, let alone provide for dresses and seasons and dowries. Gwen simply did not have the finances. But she well knew where she could find it. Whether she liked it or not, the means to the future was within her grasp. All she had to do was marry it.

Chapter Five

Even the most intelligent of men rarely knows as much as he thinks he does.
Francesa Freneau

“What you need is a plan of action,” Reggie said once again, as if the simple saying of it would magically provide such a plan. The viscount lounged on the sofa in an indolent manner, a precariously tipped glass of brandy in his hand.

“We’ve determined that.” Marcus rested his hip on the desk and swirled the liquor in his glass. Indeed, that was all the men had determined. They had planned to spend the evening at their club but instead still lingered in the library at Pennington House. Thus far they’d agreed on nothing other than the need to come up with a course of action to entice Miss Townsend into marriage. Just what that should be remained annoyingly elusive.

“And with Miss Townsend, it must be a good plan. The stakes are exceedingly high, and she is no fool.”

“A good plan is always difficult. However, an adequate plan is possible.” Reggie sipped thoughtfully at his brandy. Both men had years ago agreed decisions of any magnitude could not properly be made without endless glasses of decent liquor. “I find flowers work well.”

Marcus snorted. “That’s scarcely a plan.”

“No, but it’s a start. A prelude to a plan, so to speak. Soften her up for the real thing and all that.”

Reggie thought for a moment. “Although it may not be enough in this case.”

“No, it’s not nearly enough. Still, in the belief that it couldn’t possibly work against me, I have done my best to fill her residence with flowers since our meeting yesterday. I have had them delivered and indeed brought them myself today but she was not at home.”

Reggie frowned. “I didn’t think she knew anyone in London.”

“Neither did I.” Marcus did think Miss Townsend’s absence rather odd, especially as Madame Freneau had politely but firmly declined to answer his casual query as to Miss Townsend’s whereabouts. Still, it was probably not at all important, and Marcus set it from his mind.

“At any rate, I have thus far deluged her with blossoms, a remarkably expensive proposition, I might add. I have already spent a small fortune.”

“Excellent. You don’t want her to think you cheap. You might as well spend it while you have it, I say.” Reggie shrugged. “I do.”

Reggie had never been at all hesitant to shower the current object of his affections with flowers or whatever else he deemed suitable. Not that it had ever done him a great deal of good, as he tended to select women who not only needed rescuing but were more often than not completely unsuitable or already had their affections engaged elsewhere. Reggie pursued love with a rash, single-minded determination and gave his heart as easily as he tipped his hat. Marcus viewed that same emotion with a cautious eye and a protective attitude.