Barbara Metzger (6 page)

"I don't have a few days, much less a week, damn it. Ah, dash it, Reverend."

"The good Lord cannot be hurried, Lord Hartleigh.” The reverend adjusted his spectacles and read one of the papers. “Hmm. We did have a girl here last week whose infant son was born dead, God keep his innocent soul. Perhaps she is still in milk."

Lesley sat up straighter. “We'll find out. Where is she now?"

Mr. Garapie was not to be rushed either. He kept reading the paper and “hmming” to himself until the viscount almost snatched the document out of his hands. Finally the cleric looked up and removed his spectacles. While he wiped them on his handkerchief, Garapie spoke to Mrs. Kane, seeing her to be the more understanding of the pair.

"The girl's name is Maisie Banks, and it is a familiar enough story. She was gainfully employed as a parlor maid when the poor child was accosted by her employer. Her titled employer,” he added, looking at Hartleigh now. “He refused to take responsibility, which I am happy to see is not the case here. Maisie had to come to us, and heaven alone knows what was to happen to her or the child after, for no one hires servants with besmirched reputations or babes. As I said, the infant died. I believe the poor girl was forced to return to Lord Cosgrove's house to seek her position back. She had no references, you see, and no family to take her in."

Carissa could well understand the girl's plight. Encumbered by an infant, she herself had had enough trouble finding a position, even in her widow's weeds. And her father had refused to lend assistance, since she'd wed against his wishes. If it weren't for a friend of her great-aunt's, who knew one of Sir Gilliam's partners, Carissa might have been forced to accept such a situation. If not for Sir Gilliam, she and Pippa might have found themselves on the street.

Mr. Garapie was shaking his head. “I am sorely afraid the poor child will be back here in a few months."

Not if Carissa Kane had anything to say about it. Lord Hartleigh was all for rescuing the chit too, if it meant his daughter would be well cared for. Besides, Lord Cosgrove was a sore loser. The dirty dish was also a frequent loser, Lesley told Carissa and Byrd as they made their plans before re-entering the carriage, with a wife he kept in the country while he spent her money as fast as he could here in Town. “I knew he was a nasty piece of goods from the start, when he wasn't paying his gambling debts on time, but to rape one of his own servants..."

Carissa was pleased to see that his lordship had some antipathy toward Lord Cosgrove's dastardy, right after his poor sportsmanship. “Do you know his direction?"

"Aye, but I will take you and the children home first. No need for you to speak to such a blackguard."

"I'll go, Cap'n,” Byrd offered, pulling a pistol out of his coat pocket, to Carissa's horror. “I'll have the mort back in Kensington afore the cat can scratch its ear."

"Stubble it, Byrdie. We cannot kidnap the girl. He might be a rum go, but I'll convince Cosgrove to part with the maid, one way or the other."

"You are both being precipitous,” Carissa put in, “besides itching for trouble. We don't know if this Maisie Banks can feed Sue, or if she wishes to, with her own infant dead. I'll go talk to her myself."

In the end, Lord Hartleigh entered Cosgrove's front door, Mrs. Kane and the two children entered the rear, and Byrd entered the nearest pub.

Since it was still before noon, Lord Cosgrove was still abed. He was not pleased when his valet announced an insistent caller, one who was known to be handy with his fives. Lord Hartleigh was not pleased to be kept waiting for half an hour. He was pacing around the shabby parlor, kicking at the unlighted logs in the fireplace. Cosgrove was practicing economies, it seemed. He ought to be happy to be relieved of paying one maidservant's salary.

Cosgrove had a drunkard's nose, all red-veined and swollen. He had pouches under his eyes big enough to store a palmed ace. He had shaking hands, bad breath, and a stomach that sagged over his waistband. Lud, the viscount wondered, could
he
look this bad in the mornings? The thought was enough to keep him from accepting a glass of the port Cosgrove was pouring for breakfast.

Cosgrove slammed the decanter down. “So how much do I owe you, Hartleigh? I tell you right off I'll need time to recoup my losses, so you've wasted the call. Don't know why you're in such a rush, dash it. Ain't like you're sailing close to the wind, blast you."

"You do not owe me anything, Cosgrove, for I won't play with your ilk."

"What's that supposed to mean, ‘my ilk'?"

"I mean belligerent, bacon-brained gamblers who can't afford to pay their debts."

"What, did you come here to insult a man in his own house?” Hell, if Cosgrove didn't owe the Corinthian anything, he didn't have to take his arrogance.

"I came to ask you to release the young female in your employ who recently gave birth.” Lesley had no desire to air his laundry in this midden, so he did not mention the infant. The ton would find out soon enough, and this clodpole with them. “I am prepared to reimburse you for her quarterly wages."

"Maisie, eh? She gets pennies.” And none of his servants had received their last wages anyway. But Maisie? “Now, what would a swell like you want with such a dab of a maid? You've always had nothing but the highest flyers. What, did you hear she was a tasty morsel?"

"An adolescent parlor maid? Hardly. I need the milk, man, that's all."

A crafty look came over Cosgrove's shifty eyes. “I never thought of that. And I never knew you had such unconventional appetites. I'm not surprised the houses of accommodation cannot accommodate you."

"It's for an infant, you clunch."

Cosgrove ignored him, lost in a fantasy of his own. “I have half a mind to taste it for myself."

"No, you have half a mind, period. And I've a mind to put my fist through your nose. I want that girl, by Zeus!"

"It'll cost you a monkey then, Hartleigh. Right fond of the girl, I am."

"I'll see you in hell first.” He got up to leave, nauseated all over again, this time by Cosgrove, not last night's carousal. Byrd could come back later and kidnap the girl after all.

Meanwhile, Carissa was enjoying a nice coze in Cosgrove's kitchen. Pippa was playing with some string, and the baby was watching. Cosgrove's housekeeper was impressed at how well behaved the widow's daughter was, and even more impressed that her neighbor, the one they called Lord Heartless, was taking responsibility for his pretty little by-blow.

"It's not every man what will, you know,” the housekeeper declaimed over the second cup of tea. “And hardly any of the nobs. Think they can have their way with the girls, then ignore the consequences, they do. I warn my girls, over and over. Not that it helps in this household. Not at all, not at all."

She paused only long enough for Carissa to mention her own trials with young servants and older scoundrels. “I have the maids go home at night now, or sleep with Cook."

The older woman nodded and handed Pippa a biscuit. “I tried to hire old women, but they couldn't do the work. And the master don't care. Young or old, pretty or ugly, willing or not. I'd move on, I would, for such conduct is not what a body is used to, but jobs are worse than hen's teeth to come by. I don't have to tell you how it is, dearie."

Carissa agreed that life was hard for a woman earning her own living. “But perhaps I can make things easier for Maisie."

The other housekeeper shook her head. “I don't know. I'd feel better if she went, yet I don't want to see the poor child go from the frying pan to the fire. That Lord Hartleigh has a wicked reputation, he does."

Leaning closer, Mrs. Kane confided, “It's all a hum, but he doesn't want anyone to know. Why, the man positively dotes on little Sue. And he is taking the responsibility for her very seriously indeed. In fact, on the way here he bought every infant dress the store had in stock."

"And if Maisie comes, you're sure he won't...?"

"He wouldn't.” Carissa was certain of that. She couldn't explain how, but she knew without a doubt that Lord Hartleigh would never take advantage of a weaker opponent. “He treats me with respect, like a true gentleman. Naturally we would have to warn Maisie not to fall in love with him."

The housekeeper laughed. “That much of a charmer, is he?"

"Some women might find him so.” Never her, of course. She would never toss her bonnet after a silver-tongued devil, no matter how many dimples he had. Not again. Carissa folded her hands in her lap and waited for the housekeeper to send for Maisie.

The maid was barely seventeen, with red hair and freckles. She would have been comely except for the gap between her front teeth, that and the pale listlessness that draped her like a shawl. Until she saw the baby. “Hello, lovey,” she cooed to Sue after making her curtsy to the two housekeepers.

Carissa started to ask if Maisie thought she'd like to care for Sue, but Pippa exclaimed, “She already knows Baby's name, Mama!"

Maisie did not know much about babies. She never had the chance to learn, but she thought she'd like it just fine. And the milk was hurting something fierce. “I think I would be happier anywhere than here, Mrs. Kane, if it's safe."

"It will be, I swear. And when his lordship finds a new home for Sue, either you'll go along or he'll find a place in his household for you."

Maisie's satchel was already packed. They were all waiting in the carriage when the viscount stormed out of Cosgrove's house. “And good riddance."

Back on Gibsonia Street, Maisie and Sue were quickly settled in the spare bedroom, which had been cleaned first. The infant was suckling happily when Carissa returned to find Lord Hartleigh anxiously awaiting her report.

"Is it working? Sue is going to be all right?"

"Yes, and Maisie will be also, I think. I must warn you that I have given my pledge that she will be unharmed in this household."

He was outraged. “You felt you had to give your word that I would not rape that poor girl? What kind of monster do you think me, that I might even be tempted? I am not Cosgrove, madam, that you have to warn me to be on my best behavior around innocent children."

"Maisie is no longer innocent, thanks to Cosgrove."

"She is still innocent. He is the cad. The girl is now in my employ, which means she is under my protection, not to be trifled with by anyone."

"Well, I am sure I am happy to hear all that, my lord, but what I pledged to Maisie was that she didn't have to worry about the dog. Gladiator has to go."

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"Unsafe. Unsanitary. Unkempt and uncouth."

Was she talking about him or the dog? Lesley checked his neckcloth for spots. He hadn't had time to tie anything intricate this morning. Hell, he'd felt like tying a noose this morning. Now Mrs. Kane had everything under control, bless her starched-up soul. Every time he was coming to like the prickly female, though, she got on her high horse. He was in no mood for a grump-gallop. If he did not get some sleep soon, he was like to collapse in one of Glad's holes. Mrs. Kane, he was certain, would kick dirt over him and plant posies on top. “You go too far, madam."

She wasn't listening. “He brings in fleas and filth, and cannot be trusted around an infant."

"Dash it, ma'am. Glad isn't about to gnaw on the baby's toes or anything."

"How do you know? You've never had an infant here before, have you? Besides, Maisie is afraid of dogs."

Only Maisie? he wondered. Aloud he asked, “What do you expect me to do, toss him out with the trash?"

"He'd never go hungry there."

"Come now, Mrs. Kane, be reasonable. Think of the weather, the traffic, the hungry beggars. Surely you have more compassion than to believe I should evict poor Glad?” The dog wouldn't go; he'd tried.

"I believe that if you can find a home for Sue in the country, you can find one for that beast also."

"Ah, I can see the advertisement now: Wanted, kind, loving family for girl child and male hound, both of uncertain pedigree."

She sniffed at his attempt at humor. “Meantime I think the cur should be in the stables."

"Oh, no, you don't. You have never heard Glad howl when he cannot dig his way out of a prison. Werewolves baying at the moon cannot hold a candle to him. And he keeps it up for hours. I did try, you know, to keep him from bothering my neighbors’ yards. It was either their roses or their rest, however, so I chose to let him roam."

"You could have avoided the problem altogether, my lord. You should never have brought the impossible creature home with you in the first place."

"There are many things I should not have done, but it is too late for regrets, ma'am.” Lesley was thinking that he shouldn't have had that fourth bottle last night—or was it the fifth?

Carissa was thinking of the motherless baby. “We will return to the issue of the dog presently. For now I have compiled a list of what you will be needing if you are to keep Sue here for more than a day or two."

The house already smelled of beeswax and lemon juice. The carpets were not really gray, it seemed, and his study windows actually looked out on a pleasant vista, now that they were clean enough to be seen through. What more could the woman want? Since his plans involved parading the child before the Polite World, for however long it took to give the doyennes and duennas a disgust of himself, Lesley took the proffered paper. He'd been right about Mrs. Kane not belonging to the servants’ class, he noted. She wrote an elegant hand, the kind that came from expensive governesses or exclusive finishing schools.

"A cook?” he read. “I take my meals at the clubs or social engagements."

"Yes, but Maisie cannot. Nor can the rest of the staff you will be hiring to keep the house presentable."

He raised one eyebrow. “I will?"

Carissa went on. That topic was not open for debate. “And Maisie cannot be expected to cook. She has been in service all her life and was never taught how, for one thing. And she will be too busy with the baby, for another."

"I bow to your superior knowledge of running a household, Mrs. Kane, but surely women have been doing the cooking, cleaning, marketing, and mending for centuries—with babies on their hips."