Sari Robins - [Andersen Hall Orphanage 05] (19 page)

“L
ook! There it is!” Felix shouted. “There it is!”

Felix leaned his head out of the carriage window, and Abigail bit back the reprimand on the edge of her tongue. He could hardly fall out of the latched door to the coach.

Partly Abigail hated the way she always thought of the bad things that might occur. But partly she was glad that she was so vigilant, knowing that terrible things did indeed happen, and she should do all she could to help her innocent charges avoid them.

Seth’s young face was filled with delight, his nose and cheeks having blossomed freckles from his play in the sun. He bounced up and down on the seat. “I want ices! Lemon or muscadine! I want ices! I want ices!”

Felix pulled his head back into the coach and sat beside his bouncing brother. He was trying to be more contained, but the lad was grinning from ear to ear. “I hear that pistachio is the grandiest flavor.”

“Grandiest?” Abigail smiled, their excitement contagious. She was delighted that Lord Steele had
allowed her to join in the fun, knowing many governesses who’d never have the chance. “I think you mean
grandest
.”

Lord Steele’s chiseled features were filled with amusement, as if unable to resist the delight reflecting onto him from his nephews. “
Grandiest
does have a certain ring to it. Quite a superlative.”

“Pistachio?” Seth’s face twisted in consternation. “Now I can’t decide whether to get pistachio or lemon or muscadine…I heard my friends talking about the best flavors but don’t know which to choose!”

Lord Steele’s teeth flashed white with a devilish smile. “I say we try them all!”

Felix’s eyes went wide. “All?”

Steele struck his cane down on the carriage floor. “Why the blazes not? Then we can choose which one we like best, so the next time we return we can know what to order.”

“Next time?” Seth squealed, bouncing around so energetically, he crashed into his older brother, who for once didn’t seem to be bothered in the least.

Felix looked up at Lord Steele, his eyes filled with wonder, as if Steele were a conquering hero. “You really meant it? We can come again?”

“Why not?” Steele’s broad shoulders lifted into a shrug.

“Hurrah!” Seth cried, jumping so high his head hit the ceiling of the carriage. “Ouch!”

“Are you all right?” Abigail asked, leaning forward.

Rubbing his head, Seth beamed. “Right as rain!”

“Or ices!” Felix added. “Right as ices!”

“Right as ices!” Seth echoed. “Right as ices!”

Abigail smiled, looking out the window, relishing their joy, and soaking in the elegant Mayfair neighborhood.

“You don’t effuse much, do you?” Steele asked.

Abigail blinked.

Scratching the hard line of his jaw, he offered, “You’re allowed your share of fun, too.”

Abigail scrunched her face, teasing, “I don’t recall reading that in my position posting.”

“I’ll be sure to write that in.” Steele smiled, warming her deep inside her middle.

She smiled shyly back, containing her response. She didn’t want her employer to think her too caught up, and she had to be careful after their recent conversation. She
never
wanted to give him the impression that she would presume to invoke his attentions.

And he was correct; things were right just as they were. He was being so amiable and even going so far as to allow her to join them on the excursion to Gunter’s. He was also being so kind to the boys at a time when they needed his attentions.

They had no one else, and Abigail believed deep in her heart that if Lord Steele allowed himself, he would be a wonderful father to Seth and Felix. The thought warmed her and gave her new hope for the lads’ recovery from their recent loss. They would never have their parents back, but given time and love and a family to call their own, they would grow into the finest of men.

Abigail only prayed that Lord Steele chose a wife wisely, selecting a lady who would embrace Seth and Felix as her own and give them the love they deserved.

As the carriage pulled onto the east side of the square, Abigail could make out the sign bearing a pineapple, which was the emblem used by Gunter’s Tea Shop at Nos. 7–8 Berkeley Square. Delightful anticipation made her heart race, and a smile teased her lips. She felt as if she were nine years old again, when the happiest times were concentrated into little bursts of joyful moments, like blowing bubbles in the wind or running through tall grasses or skipping rocks on a lake.

This
felt
like one of those moments, and it brought tears to her eyes. Bittersweet joy at the memories, grief over innocence lost, and joy for Seth and Felix that those times were still possible for them.

“Are you sad?” Lord Steele leaned forward, concern in his dark gaze.

“Nay.” She shook her head and wiped the corner of her eye. “I’m just so very glad that you came to the park today.” Meeting his eyes, she smiled, and it was so heartfelt that she sighed.

His face relaxed and his lips lifted. “I am, too.”

“Look! There it is!” Felix cried.

Seth pressed his nose against the glass of the window. “Where? Where?”

Fashionable coaches were lined up on the avenue. Waiters ran back and forth taking orders and carrying sweets. Small parties of gentlemen leaned against the nearby railings enjoying the sun and the establishment’s offerings. Other waiters scampered back and forth across the avenue, serving the people clustered under the maple trees in the square’s lush garden.

Ten minutes later, Lord Steele’s party sat on a bench under one of those very maple trees, waiting
for Gunter’s ices and sorbets while the two burly footmen perched against a tree nearly. The wooden bench was fairly full, with the boys in the middle and Abigail and Lord Steele acting as bookends.

Excited anticipation hung heavily in the air as a spirited breeze carried the scent of butterscotch to tease their senses.

“My tummy’s rumbling,” Seth complained, rubbing his middle.

“They must be cooking candies,” Abigail surmised. “And I confess the scent alone makes me feel as if I haven’t eaten in a week.”

Felix looked up at her, clearly trying to distract himself with a new topic. “Have you ever gone a week without food?”

Seth clutched his belly. “A week without food! That sounds dreadful!”

Ignoring the memories of the terrible times she and her brother had shared, Abigail mussed Seth’s hair. “I suppose that depends on who’s cooking.”

Lord Steele watched her with a keen gaze, and she could swear that he’d noticed the way she’d not given an answer.

Abigail looked away, noting that he must be a gifted prosecutor. She hoped to one day watch him at work, but never as the one sitting in the witness chair.

She rubbed her arm, thinking about her fugitive brother. She wondered if Lord Steele might be able to help her in some way. But he was sworn to uphold the law and worked on behalf of the Crown. And her brother might very well be engaged in illegal activities. Moreover, why should he stick his neck out for
her? No, the idea was too tenuous to consider, so she pushed it away.

Felix rubbed his hands together while Seth licked his lips again and again until a line of spit encircled his mouth. They all watched the other visitors in the park, eagerly eyeing the ices already served.

“Oooh, I hope that’s one of my flavors,” Felix muttered, eyeing a green-colored scoop of ice being eaten by a raven-haired girl. “It’s gotta be.”

A wiry, blond-haired waiter carrying a silver salver brought the ices, each person’s serving in a small clear glass. A hush descended over the group as they were being served. Once each spoon was handed out, they all dug in, utensils clattering against the glasses.

After sampling all three of his flavors, Felix turned to Lord Steele. “Pistachio is my favorite. What’s yours?”

“Burnt filbert.”

Seth shoved a spoon full of cream-colored ice cream into his mouth. “Bewwer than royal ice cweam?”

Abigail knew she should chide the lad for speaking with food in his mouth, but she was too busy licking the last drop of chocolate off the back of her spoon to care.

Lord Steele held up his finger. “Wait, I must try another bite to be sure.” Abigail tried not to watch as his spoon slipped between his smooth lips, but she was mesmerized by the look of pure rapture on his handsome features. He sighed and closed his eyes.

“Well, which one?” Felix demanded.

Steele opened his eyes and nodded. “Definitely burnt filbert. I like the nutty flavor.”

She pulled her gaze from her employer, wonder
ing why instead of chilled she felt positively heated. Quickly she took another helping of chocolate, flipping the spoon so that the smooth, creamy coldness was pressed flat against her tongue.

Pure heaven.

Her face relaxed, her eyes grew heavy, and she wondered at the last time she’d tasted anything this good. Probably never.

“An’ wha’ abou’ you, Miss West?” Seth asked with a long line of cream running down the side of his chin.

She sighed. “Dark chocolate mixed with burnt filbert.”

Lord Steele raised a brow. “Oh, you get to pick two favorites? I didn’t know that was allowed.”

“It’s two ice creams making one flavor,” she replied cheekily.

“Are you sure you’re not the attorney in this party?” Steele asked.

“Most assuredly,” said she.

For all their enjoyment of the ices, the lads were done in short order, dropping their spoons with a clatter into the glasses.

Felix looked longingly at the other children sprinting around the clusters of trees. “Can we…?”

Lord Steele motioned to the two footmen, who quickly swallowed the last of their ices, set down the empty glasses, and jumped forward.

Lord Steele’s gaze was measured. “Never out of sight and always within ten paces.”

“Yes, Your Lordship!” Foster and Zachariah spoke as one.

Steele turned to the boys. “The same goes for you;
always keep us in sight and never be more than ten paces from one of our party.”

“Woo-hoo!” Seth and Felix scampered off.

Sighing with contentment, Abigail leaned back into the wooden bench. For a moment she could pretend that she wasn’t there by her employer’s leave and that she was with the boys out of pure love, not just the threat of starvation.

Although at the moment she could hardly consider hunger when her belly was pleasantly full with a hearty supplement of delicious cream.

“I can’t recall a finer day in my memory,” Abigail breathed, collecting the lads’ leftover glasses and spoons.

“Oh, I’ll do that, miss.” A blond-haired waiter with sparkling blue eyes and a ready grin jumped to help. The waiter reached for her glass.

“No, not mine!” She realized that she was speaking loudly and lowered her voice. “I’m not quite finished yet.” There had to be at least two spoonfuls of chocolate left.

The man nodded knowingly and removed his hand. “Of course.”

Lord Steele eyed the last bit of his ice cream. “That was pretty blazingly delightful.”

Abigail smiled. “I’m forced to agree.”

Lord Steele handed his empty glass to the waiter and exhaled noisily, stretching his long legs before him.

Abigail suddenly realized that they were virtually alone in the shadow of a maple, as the two footmen had gone off to follow the boys and no other patrons sat nearby. She knew that she should be wary
of appearing too informal with her employer, but she felt so sleepily content, she couldn’t summon the wherewithal.

“It was most kind of you to buy ices for me and Foster and Zachariah,” Abigail commented. “Thank you again—”

“Please stop thanking me, although I must say it was worth every penny to see you roll your eyes as if you’d died and gone to heaven.”

Abigail’s cheeks heated. “I swear I think I may have.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Close enough.”

A
companionable silence blanketed Abigail and Lord Steele as they watched the boys scrambling about with their newfound friends. Many families came to enjoy Gunter’s in the square’s maple tree–lined park.

A storklike matron with graying blond curls and greenish-blue eyes strolled into the glade. She was eating from a clear glass filled with cocoa-colored ices. Her eyes fixed on Lord Steele and narrowed in distaste.

Lord Steele’s lips tightened as he nodded slightly.

The matron sniffed, raised her nose in the air, and turned so quickly, the hem of her hunter green promenade dress flounced. The feathers of her extravagant peacock bonnet bounced with each rapid step in the opposite direction.

Lord Steele’s face hardened, but Abigail couldn’t help but notice that he wasn’t as impervious as he wanted to appear. A sadness had entered his dark gaze, and his shoulders seemed to drop as if weighted down.

“Who was that?” Abigail couldn’t help but ask.

“Lady Blankett.”

“Why does she dislike you so?”

Steele shifted on the bench. “I arrested one of her friends for murder.”

“Well, you had to have good reason, didn’t you?”

“I thought I did…” He looked up at the trees. “I’m coming to the unfortunate conclusion that sometimes I’m a little…eager when it comes to seeing justice done.”

Abigail shifted slightly, praying that Lord Steele never learned of her brother and his brushes with the law. “Was the friend guilty?”

“No.”

“So she’s free now?”

His gaze was lost to the memory. “Completely exonerated, thanks to Heath Bartlett.”

“Who?”

“A man who works for me.”

Abigail lifted a shoulder, feeling inclined to give Lord Steele the benefit of the doubt. “So…ultimately you helped her.”

Steele’s smile was tight. “He did it behind my back, and I probably wouldn’t have let him get away with it had I known.”

“Why wouldn’t you have allowed him to do it?”

“Because the law needs to be respected.”

Abigail’s heart began to race a bit faster. Blast, if Lord Steele only knew that she’d stabbed a man a few weeks ago! Granted he was trying to rob and rape her, but still…Lord Steele was the arm of the law! But what really worried her was Reggie. If he was involved with Lucifer Laverty and the circuit—well, that meant that he and Lord Steele were on opposite sides of the law.

“I took an oath,” he continued, almost speaking to himself. “I have to uphold the law. Help the system work its justice…” His voice trailed off, and he seemed lost in thought.

She swallowed, vowing never to let her increasing regard for Lord Steele tempt her to confide in him. It would put him in a terrible fix, and heaven only knew how he would deal with her and Reggie. Clearing her throat, she endeavored to change the topic. “Lady Blankett was alone.”

Steele started as if pulled from some weighty musings. “Yes.”

She prattled on, “I hear that though it’s not proper for a lady to be seen alone at many establishments, it’s perfectly acceptable for her to be seen at Gunter’s.”

Steele nodded. “So it is.”

“I envy you that.”

Steele turned to her. “What?”

“The ability to go where you want when you want. I confess, I often find it quite inconvenient being female.”

Instead of making a snide comment or making light, Lord Steele shook his head. “It is a terrible shame.” Watching Felix climb a tree, Steele remarked, “I do believe that through our own prejudices, we are leaving waste some of the best talent in our society.”

Abigail felt her brows lifting to almost her hairline. “You do?”

“There are some ladies who are so…keen-minded, and often have a sense of time and place that surpasses many men. Yet they are stymied by the restraints laid upon them by society and are only relegated to limited roles.”

“I had no idea that you were such a progressive-thinking man.”

“I have not always held these beliefs and seem to be coming to them late in my life. But certain ladies of my acquaintance are convincing me that the fair sex has much to offer, if we are only willing to accept their talents.” Shaking his head, he waved a hand. “Mrs. Catherine Dunn comes to mind. Do you know her from your days at Andersen Hall? She runs the orphanage quite admirably these days.”

Abigail swallowed. Since returning to London she’d stayed away from the orphanage, unwilling to face the place without the man who had steered the helm for so many years. Additionally, she didn’t want to see anyone who might connect her with Reggie. “Ah…I can’t recall…”

The viscount raised a slender finger. “She’s a woman like that. One who can stand on her own two feet against terrible odds.”

Abigail was impressed. “Do you know Mrs. Dunn from your work on the board of trustees of the orphanage?”

“Her husband and I…well, we’ve known each other for a long time.”

Abigail had heard that Major Dunn was a war hero now. A long way from the mischievous headmaster’s son who was the most daring of pranksters.

“Mayhap you and the boys and I will visit there one afternoon,” Steele offered. “I’m sure the Dunns would be glad to see you once more.”

Abigail swallowed, looking away. “I think it might be painful for the boys to be reminded so explicitly that they are orphans. So soon, anyway.”

“You believe so? I thought they might benefit from knowing that they are not alone in their circumstance.”

“It may be too soon…I don’t know when the time is right…but I would hate to put them through any more…”

“You haven’t been back there, have you?”

She shook her head.

Reaching out, Lord Steele grasped her hand in a comforting squeeze. “I’m sure it must be very hard.” The compassion in his voice warmed her heart. Staying away from Andersen Hall
had
been hard for her.

His skin was smooth and warm, and she was mesmerized by the long, elegant fingers encircling her own. His hand was so much larger than hers, enveloping hers, making her feel connected and secure. She knew that she shouldn’t, but she relished that touch, savoring the sweet contact, knowing that it was only for a moment before he became the aloof, stylish viscount once more and she the frumpish governess.

But for the time, she soaked in the comforting contact, needing it so badly, she yearned for the moment to stretch on forever.

But after a lingering moment, he released her hand, careful to be a few inches away from her.

He doesn’t want me to get any ideas
, she told herself, respecting his efforts.

Raising his fist to his mouth, Lord Steele coughed uncomfortably. “I really should be getting back to work. I have some matters that require my attention.” Checking his watch, he stood.

She was reluctant for the intimacy and joy of the afternoon to end. But all good things did. “I’ll collect the boys.”

One of the footmen, Zachariah, ran off to call for the coach while the remainder of the party clustered near the edge of the park toward the street.

“That was glorious.” Felix sighed. “Thank you.”

Lord Steele nodded. “You’re very welcome.”

“When can we come back?” Seth wailed.

Patting his shoulder, Abigail made a stern face. “Let us be grateful we came this once.”

Lord Steele leaned down and whispered in Seth’s ear. “We may just have to return tomorrow.”

“Yippee!” Seth screamed.

Lord Steele smiled, then his gaze was captured by something over Abigail’s shoulder. His eyes narrowed and his body stilled, like a fox who had caught a scent.

Abigail turned. A black coach was tearing down the avenue at a breakneck pace.

“There are children about!” Abigail cried, shocked. “He needs to slow down!”

The ground rumbled with the pounding clatter of the horses’ hooves as the driver cracked a whip, urging the horses even faster.

Suddenly Lord Steele grabbed Abigail’s arm and swung her and the children behind him with his back facing the crazed coach.

“Ow!” Seth complained as they were squeezed in a cocoon of shelter created by her and Steele’s bodies.

“What’s happening?” Felix demanded. “Why are you hugging us?”

Lord Steele’s body jerked. “Ooof!”

“What happened?” Abigail cried, alarmed by the distress in his features.

“Nothing,” he bit out, his face a mask of anger and pain.

The carriage wheeled away, followed by the cries of alarm and anger from the people along the avenue.

Abigail anxiously scanned his features, her heart racing, fear tight in her throat. “Are you all right?”

“Is it gone?” Steele asked, his teeth gritted as if he were in pain.

“Yes. Thank the heavens. He was a madman!”

“Are you all right, Your Lordship?” Foster cried, running closer. He’d been about ten paces away, awaiting the carriage.

“Where’s my coach?” Steele demanded.

“Right here, Your Lordship!” Zachariah jumped off the carriage as it rolled to a stop by the curb.

“Open the door, man! Now!”

Quickly Zachariah opened the door.

Steele released her arm, opening the shelter she and he had provided for the children. “Get inside the coach, now!”

For once Seth and Felix immediately did as they were told without argument. After ensuring that they were quickly settled, Abigail sat in the coach, anxiety and confusion coursing through her. She hugged the boys close, comforted by her need to protect them.

Looking around, Lord Steele rolled his shoulder and winced as if it pained him.

Zachariah stepped closer. “It was a rock. It hit you hard. How bad are you hurt?”

Steele waved him off, his eyes searching the nearby ground.

Leaning down, he picked up an object the size of a small melon.

A crowd had gathered on this side of the park, their murmurings and anxious faces clearly evidencing that they had witnessed the attack.

A note encased the rock, held together with twine. Steele deftly unwrapped the note and read it silently.

“
Death awaits you!
” a wiry gentleman dandy read aloud over Steele’s shoulder.

Steele turned as if surprised by the proximity of the man.

“Who wants to see you dead, Lord Steele?” the dandy asked.

“Dead!” A heavyset matron with a purple turban dropped to the ground like a sack of flour, her turban sliding off her head.

A lady nearby hissed.

Chaos erupted as people gathered to the fallen matron and exclaimed among themselves.

Clutching the note, Steele jumped into the carriage and slammed the door closed behind him. “Make away!”

The driver cracked the whip, and the carriage quickly rolled off.