Marjorie Farrel (7 page)

She was pleased with her new freedom and the resumption of her friendship with Robin and Barbara. If at times she envied Barbara’s description of an assembly or an evening at the theater, no one would have known. She was determined to stand by her decision to live within the constraints of her situation.

The only thing missing was the extra income she wished to bring in. At first, she had intended to sell a few of her sketches, or perhaps give art lessons to young ladies of the ton. But caricatures and oils were more popular than her delicate watercolors, and the cold reception she received at one small shop had intimidated her so much that she pursued it no further. Instead, she decided to wait until more people returned to town and ask Barbara to mention her availability as a drawing teacher.

Barbara, well aware of Judith’s pride, was determined not to push her. What she was hoping to do, at the very least, was treat her to an early Christmas present and give her a new dress and an evening out at the theater. She knew that Judith wanted work and that teaching drawing would be the most appropriate source of income for her, and she fully intended to canvas her acquaintances in Judith’s behalf. But when she opened the Post one morning and, avoiding the news, read the advertisements for amusement, she was intrigued by one which read: “Reader wanted two mornings a week for blind nobleman. Apply to Whithedd and Pierce, the Strand.”

It must be Simon, she thought immediately, and jumped up to find her brother and confirm her guess.

Robin was in the library, at his desk, when Barbara rushed in, apologizing for the interruption but obviously intent upon speaking to him immediately.

“This had better be important, my dear sister, since I just lost my place in this column of figures.”

“Robin, do you read the advertisements in the newspaper?”

“Barbara, this is beyond anything annoying. If this is all you came in for—’

“Hear me out, Robin. I read them for amusement, and look what I found in this morning’s paper.” She showed Robin. “It must be Simon.”

“It is. That is the name of the family man of business. I can’t understand why he thinks he needs to hire someone when he has got any number of friends who would be happy to read for him,” Robin said rather angrily.

“Perhaps he doesn’t want to be dependent upon the goodwill of friends. But this seems like a good sign to me, and it is perfect that he has advertised.”

“Oho, I think we are getting to the source of your excitement.”

“Judith, Robin! She read for a blind person in her last position, and she wants to earn some money and we would hear from her just how Simon is doing—”

“Slow down, my dear. The advertisement specifically requests that ‘gentlemen’ apply.”

“Pooh! I’ll speak to Francis and at least get her an interview.”

Robin looked at Barbara thoughtfully. “If Francis is willing to recommend her for an interview, and if Simon is not set on a man, Judith might do very well. But haven’t Judith and Simon met?”

“Yes. The last winter Judith was in school she came to Ashurst for the Christmas holidays. You and Simon were on leave. That was the year of the big snowstorm. Remember we were housebound for a few days?”

“I recall we gambled and danced and read aloud.”

“It was lovely. And then, when we could finally get out, we went for a sleigh ride and you nearly overturned us in a snowdrift. But that was almost three years ago, Robin. Simon and Judith got on very well, but do you think that a ten-day acquaintance would stay in his memory for this long?”

“Probably not. There was no question of an attachment. We were all just good friends and companions. Judith would have been my little sister’s friend from school, someone with whom he passed the time enjoyably, but not someone he ever asked about again.”

“Well, he was foolish not to form a tendre for her, but I am glad of that now, because I think she can safely apply for this post without being recognized. After all, he cannot see her. Should she give her real name, do you think?”

“Wait a minute. Judith doesn’t even know of this yet. We can ask her tomorrow if she is interested, and in the meantime, I’ll call on Francis this afternoon.”

* * * *

Robin was wrong. Judith had been reading the advertisements daily, hoping to find something that would only take up a few days of the week. That same morning, she had taken the paper from Stephen while he went to finish dressing, and the word “reader” had immediately caught her attention. When her brother returned to the breakfast room, she was copying the information down.

“Have you found something of interest, Judith?”

She looked up and smiled. “Yes, something for which I am ideally suited,” and she passed over the paper.

“I hate to dampen your enthusiasm, but it specifically asks for a gentleman. And do you think it is quite suitable for a young woman to be closeted with a man for hours every week?”

Judith found herself becoming annoyed as Stephen tried to dampen her enthusiasm. She had begun to realize over the past few weeks that her brother was far more conventional than she, and occasionally overbearing! Of course, it came from his concern for her, but also from his view of the world. Stephen was determined to succeed as a barrister and, through hard work and, he hoped, an advantageous marriage, establish himself in a position more appropriate to their background. To this end he worked long hours, carefully building his reputation as a hardworking, trustworthy young professional. If he had ever, when younger, questioned the conventions as his sister had, he was certainly committed to them now. Things had changed for both of them after the death of their father, but Stephen, at least, had the hope of a better future—a future, moreover, which was in his own hands. He had no desire to jeopardize it by taking unfashionable stands, and he and Judith had already had some mild disagreements.

It was clear to Judith that she and her brother would always have a warm and loving relationship. They shared happy memories and an interest in art and literature, but on some serious questions they were far apart. For now, while Stephen was at the beginning of his career, she knew they could live together very comfortably. But she foresaw a time when her independence and more radical opinions would interfere with their easy domestic arrangement. As Stephen became successful, and when he finally married, she would be in an uncomfortable position. This realization made her all the more determined to find a way to earn some money and perhaps be able to put a little aside for the future.

“Surely my reputation is in no danger. To whom could it matter? And as for myself, what real danger could there be from an octogenarian, sightless earl or duke?”

“I suppose you are right. But I cannot like the idea of you again at the beck and call of some stranger.”

“I am not applying for parlormaid, Stephen,” Judith said, trying to tease him from his disapproval. “It seems an ideal situation. I would only be reading a few hours a week, and have plenty of time to myself.’’

“Well, apply if you want to. There is no need for either of us to fly into the boughs over it, since you haven’t even interviewed yet. I am sorry to play the ‘older brother,’ but I only want to take care of you.”

“And I appreciate that, Stephen. Now go, before you are late, and I will no doubt greet you with the sad news that they hired a gentleman, after all.”

* * * *

In the meantime, having finished his business with his own secretary, Robin set out for Simon’s house. He was admitted by the butler and shown in to Francis immediately.

“How do you do, Major Stanley.” Francis greeted Robin warmly.

He could not but appreciate the major’s faithfulness to his old friend, despite constant rebuff. “Please sit down. I’ll let the duke know you are here, if you wish, but he has still not received any visitors.”

“No, I won’t try to see his grace today, Francis. It is you I have come to see.”

Francis looked at the major questioningly.

“It is about the advertisement you placed in the Post. At least we assume it was you, since I know of no other ‘blind nobleman’ whose solicitor is Whithedd. Why, in God’s name, does Simon think he has to hire someone? I would be happy to read for him.”

“I know that,” Francis replied. “It does look like another isolating tactic. But I am convinced this will be a good thing. It is certainly the first interest in anything outside himself that the duke has shown in months.”

“Have you received any replies yet?” Robin asked.

“I have no idea. This is only the first day of the advertisement. Whithedd may have had someone apply, but has hardly had time to inform me.”

“Good, because I have found Simon a reader. She will be perfect.”

“She? The duke requested a gentleman.”

“Yes, I saw that. But would he not agree to interview a young woman whom you recommend?”

“Perhaps. Who is it you have in mind?”

“She is Miss Judith Ware. She and Barbara were at school together. She is what you might call a gentlewoman in straitened circumstances. Good family, but no title or money. She left school to become a governess for three years. In one household there was a blind woman, and Judith read to her.”

“Why is she now in London?”

“Her brother is down from Oxford, reading law. They have set up a house together and have only a small income. She is looking for a way to supplement it, and this position would be just the thing. I would feel reassured, Simon would have an excellent reader and Judith would have the extra income she needs.”

“It sounds commonsensical to me,” said Francis. “But the duke wants no one connected with his former life.”

“She would not have to reveal the connection,” Robin said. “She would be the plain Miss Ware, telling what, after all, is the truth about her background and never having to mention us at all. Are you free now? Shall we go over to Whithedd and see where he has got with this?”

“All right,” said Francis. “This feels like it is moving out of my hands very quickly, but I can’t see what harm it would do to present her case to the duke. If he refuses to see her, it does not radically change things, since we will eventually find a reader.”

As Francis and Robin were finishing their conversation, Judith arrived in the city. She had taken a hackney to the Strand and stood in front of Whithedd and Pierce for a moment before going in. She inquired of the clerk in the front room if Mr. Whithedd or Mr. Pierce were available.

“Mr. Pierce has been dead for eleven years, miss,” he replied with a look of disdain on his face, “and Mr. Whithedd can only be seen by appointment. I don’t believe you have one?”

“No, I do not, but I did not think it necessary, as I am come to answer the advertisement Mr. Whithedd placed in the Morning Post.”

“The advertisement for a reader? He wants a gentleman, I am sure.”

“Yes, I know,” Judith said patiently. “But I have had some experience with a blind person. Surely he could spare me a few minutes?”

“I will see,” said the clerk, realizing from her tone that Judith was not to be easily discouraged.

A moment later, he appeared in the doorway.

“I am sorry, miss, but Mr. Whithedd says that this position would not be at all proper for an unmarried young lady.”

Judith opened her mouth, ready to protest, but saw, from the clerk’s expression, that she would never get past him or, indeed, the absurd rules that made it inappropriate for her to earn her living reading to some elderly nobleman. As the clerk gestured her toward the door, she said with a touch of irony, “Don’t worry, I’ll find my own way. Thank you for your time.”

When the outer door closed behind her, she leaned against it for a moment and choked back a sob. It was ridiculous, of course, but she had, as usual, gotten ahead of reality, and pictured herself earning money for present pleasures and future independence. And to be turned down for some antiquated notion of propriety!

She was just about to move away from the doorway when she heard someone calling her name. She looked up and was surprised to see Robin and another young man walking toward her.

“Judith, what are you doing here?”

“Making a fool of myself. I had read an advertisement in the Post for a—”

“Reader?”

“Why, yes! How did you know?”

“Barbara and I saw it too and thought of you immediately. It is perfect for you.”

“So I thought. But Mr. Whithedd will not even see me. How can he think it improper for me to be reading to an elderly gentleman?”

“Elderly? Of course—you could have had no way of knowing. The ‘blind nobleman’ is Simon Ballance, Duke of Sutton. You met him at Ashurst one Christmas.”

“Oh, Robin, no—not Simon!” Judith was distraught when she made the connection.

“Yes. I would have thought Barbara would have told you about it by now.”

“No, she has never mentioned him.” Judith did not add that she had remembered the duke quite well and had refrained from asking about Simon because she was embarrassed by her own interest.

“Judith,” said Robin, “this is Francis Bolton, Simon’s secretary.”

“How do you do, Mr. Bolton.”

“Let us all three storm Whithedd’s office and convince him he has turned down the best candidate for the job,’’ suggested Robin.

Fifteen minutes later, the three emerged triumphant. Robin offered to drop Judith off before continuing on with Francis. She accepted, “But only as far as Great Russell Street, Robin. I would like to walk awhile, it is such a lovely day.”

When Robin dropped her off, Judith had at last some time to think. She had been so shocked at hearing Simon’s name, and things had happened so quickly, that what she had done was just becoming clear to her.

Judith remembered Simon very well from her visit to the Stanleys’. She had been out riding and was returning to the stableyard when Simon and Robin had arrived, that Christmas three years ago. It was a dry, cold day, and the three of them were red-cheeked and invigorated. Robin had recognized Judith at once, and introduced the duke. That informal meeting in the yard, in the confusion of horses being unharnessed and baggage being lifted down—the young people stamping their numbing feet and laughing about the weather—set the tone of the next ten days. Judith forgot Simon’s rank, as most were wont to do. He was good-looking, and his face was open, curious, and sympathetic, all at once. In his eyes lurked a sense of the absurd, which over the course of their visit she discovered they shared.