The Bloodied Cravat (24 page)

Nothing could have swayed the independent Miss Lavender’s decision more. “I’ll be with you shortly, Father. Go on ahead.”

She turned her back to him. He walked away, but not before throwing a most disagreeable look over his shoulder at me.

I held out my arm for Miss Lavender to take so that we might walk a little, but she stubbornly refused to accept it. “What do you have to say to me?”

“Only that I apologize if I have offended you by engaging Lion’s help. Please believe me when I say I am fond of the boy and would not see him hurt. It is only that her Royal Highness has shown me the utmost kindness over the years—”

Miss Lavender held up a hand. “I already understand, Mr. Brummell.”

“Lydia, I—”

She bristled like an old dowager. “I haven’t given you leave to call me by my first name!”

“Very well, Miss Lavender. Did you receive the flowers I brought you?”

“Yes. They are pretty. Thank you.”

“Heigh-ho, what’s this? Out searching the Park for your missing letter?” Sylvester Fairingdale crowed from his curricle.

Miss Lavender and I swung to face him.

Fairingdale knew about Freddie’s letter! No, I decided. He knew about
a
stolen letter, but not the contents. If he knew the truth, all hell would have broken loose already. “Pay no attention to this dolt,” I said to Miss Lavender.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your charming companion, Brummell? I haven’t seen you about Town, fair lady,” the garishly clad fop said.

Miss Lavender looked none too pleased.

With great effort I restrained myself from lunging for the curricle to grab Fairingdale by his throat. “This is Miss Lavender, daughter of John Lavender from Bow Street. Miss Lavender, the fashion disaster you see in front of you is Sylvester Fairingdale.”

The ninny eyed Miss Lavender with interest. “Don’t believe a word Brummell ever says, Miss Lavender. Just look at how he’s made London such a dull place with his dark coats. But, stay, are you helping Brummell find that stolen letter? He’s frantic about it, you know.”

I took a threatening step toward the curricle.

“Bid you good day,” the coward called, applying the whip to his horse’s back. “Hope to see
you
again, Miss Lavender.”

“What an awful man,” Miss Lavender declared. “Is he the sort of friend you have?”

“He is nothing short of my nemesis.”

“What is this letter he said was stolen? You told me the highwayman took your clothes.”

“Actually, I told you the highwayman took my belongings. Of course clothes were among them.”

“You impossible man! Twisting words—”

“Mr. Brummell! Mr. Brummell!” Lady Crecy called, ordering her coachman to pull up to our side. Riding in an open carriage, Lady Crecy, her daughter Lady Penelope, Lord Wrayburn and, looking pale, but far from stricken with grief, Lady Ariana.

I performed the introductions. With the exception of Lady Ariana, Lady Crecy and the occupants of her carriage gave only the briefest of nods to Miss Lavender, recognizing that she was neither a member of the nobility nor the gentry. I felt her stiffen at my side.

“How are you, Lady Ariana?” I asked. “I am sorry I did not have time to offer my condolences on the death of your cousin before you left Oatlands.”

Lady Ariana smiled her child-like smile. “Do not give it another thought, Mr. Brummell. Roger and I are so happy, you know. We are to be wed.”

An awkward silence fell.

Lady Crecy was the first to rally. “Dear Mr. Brummell, have you heard the news about Lady Perry?”

“I understand she has had her baby,” I replied.

“Oh, is that true?” Miss Lavender asked. “She is such a dear lady. I met her last year. Is the babe a boy or girl?”

Lady Crecy completely ignored Miss Lavender’s question.

“I fear there is trouble, Mr. Brummell. Lady Perry has not had the baby. The last I heard, she was suffering mightily. A second physician has been called in to try to assist the birth, but it may be too late. Poor Lady Perry. Too young to die. Oh, I see the Duke of Derehurst and Lady Deidre. I must go. Good day, Mr. Brummell.”

The carriage rumbled away.

I stood immobile with shock.

“Please excuse me, Miss Lavender. I fear for Lady Perry and must go to Grosvenor Square at once. Shall I escort you across the way to your father?”

“No! If Lady Perry is having difficulty giving birth, I might be able to help.”

My eyebrows must have risen all the way to my scalp.

“Not me personally. But a midwife I know who is very skilled.”

“A midwife?” I repeated skeptically. “Miss Lavender, Lord Perry is an earl. I have no doubt he has the finest physicians in London overseeing his wife’s care. Come, I shall escort you to your father.”

“No! I’m going with you. Perhaps I can persuade someone at Lord Perry’s house that a midwife is needed. I must. Even if her physicians save Lady Perry, no man can know what it’s like for a woman to lose a baby.”

I paused and studied the woman before me. She was ardent on the subject, most expressly so. “Why do you think a midwife would be better able to help Lady Perry?”

“A good midwife practices cleanliness. Faith, the stories I’ve heard of women dying because some physician won’t even wash his hands after—”

I interrupted her before she could tell me more than I wanted to know. “I do not need to hear details. But, cleanliness, you say?” Here was a doctrine I could embrace.

“Yes. But that is only one reason I believe midwives are better suited to the job, though.” Miss Lavender’s eyes implored me to trust her.

And I found that I did. I respect her opinions over some of those who hold the title of lady. Such as Lady Crecy, for example.

“Very well. But do not come with me. Instead, find the midwife and meet me in Grosvenor Square. You remember the Perrys’ house?”

“Yes, I do, from last year.”

“What is the woman’s name?”

“Mrs. Hoffman.”

“Good. I shall go ahead and convince Lord Perry to admit Mrs. Hoffman to Lady Perry’s bedchamber. Did you and your father walk here? Do you need money for a hackney?”

“I have my own money, thank you.” She turned and half-ran over the grass to her father.

As it turned out, not much effort on my part was required to persuade Perry to permit the midwife to help.

When I arrived at his house, I learned he was above stairs with his wife. I was not surprised. Perry is not the sort of husband who would drink his way through a bottle of wine, closeted in his study, awaiting word of his heir’s arrival. Or his death.

Some minutes passed before the earl appeared in the drawing room where I waited. His expression was one of acute wretchedness.

“Perry,” I said, rising from my chair. “How is she?”

“Brummell, I—I do not know. These past twenty or more hours have been my worst nightmare. The physicians tell me the babe is turned the wrong way. They do not think ... I may lose....” He broke off and ran his fingers through his dark hair.

I put my hand on his shoulder. “I know it is a source of strength for Lady Perry that you are at her side.”

“But I can do nothing!” he cried passionately, walking away from me. “I thought I had hired the best medical people in London, but what if it is not enough? Look here, I must return to Bernadette. I only came down because my man told me you insisted on seeing me.”

“I did and for good reason. Can we sit down?”

“No,” he said distractedly. He pulled an intricately made watch, shaped like a mandolin, out of his pocket and consulted the time. “You must excuse me. I am not myself. I just want to be with Bernadette.”

He hovered by the drawing room door. I walked over to him. “Listen to me, Perry. Do you remember Miss Lavender, the woman who runs the shelter for females in trouble? You met her last October. She came here to help with that Frenchwoman.”

“Yes, yes, what about her?”

“I was just in the Park when Lady Crecy told me of Lady Perry’s trouble. Miss Lavender was with me. She knows a midwife who could help.”

He looked dumbfounded. “A midwife? Some woman, from God knows where, touching my Bernadette? Have you run mad?”

“Wait, Perry! What choice do you have? You just told me things look very bad. I think you should let this midwife assess the situation. I trust Miss Lavender’s judgment. I know she would not bring someone here whom she did not truly believe could help. She cares deeply about the plight of women.”

He thought this over. “Perhaps you are right. I do not know what else to do. They say in only another few hours....”

“It will not come to that, Perry. We must have hope. And Miss Lavender left immediately from the Park to find the midwife and bring her here. Her name is Mrs. Hoffman.”

Perry heaved a sigh. “You are a good friend, Brummell. I shall leave word to have Mrs. Hoffman sent up when she arrives. Pray God it will not be too late.”

With that, he hastened from the room.

I reached for a decanter of wine on a side table and poured myself a large measure. I drank that one, and yes, another, while waiting for Miss Lavender and the midwife.

At least an hour went by before Miss Lavender arrived with a thin woman in a neat brown dress. Miss Lavender introduced her. Mrs. Hoffman, not wanting to waste a moment, nodded to me and then ascended the stairs briskly, carrying a large bag.

Miss Lavender and I drifted to the drawing room to wait.

We talked of nothing of consequence, both of us too preoccupied with thoughts of Lady Perry. The house was hushed in expectation. At one point, we heard footsteps on the stairs, but a glance out the drawing room doors showed us it was one of the physicians stomping from the house in a huff.

After a while, Miss Lavender accepted a glass of wine from me. She recalled how kind Lady Perry had been to her on the occasion they had met, offering her tea and treating her almost as if she, Miss Lavender, were of the same station in life as that of an earl’s wife.

I could not help but be impressed by the calm way Miss Lavender comported herself over the long hours. Every once in a while, when a silence fell between us, I noticed she clasped her hands and lowered her head in prayer.

It was during one of those quiet moments that I heard a faint cry come from abovestairs. Simultaneously, Miss Lavender and I stood up and hurried into the hall.

There it was again. Stronger this time. The unmistakable sound of a baby’s cry.

“Oh, praise God,” Miss Lavender whispered, tears running unchecked down her cheeks.

I felt a burning behind my own eyes. I had probably just swallowed some wine too quickly. Yes, that was it. “Here, take my handkerchief, Miss Lavender,” I said pulling one from my pocket.

“That’s all right,” she said with a sniffle. “I have one of my own in my reticule.”

I stepped up to her and raised her face to mine. “Which is in the drawing room. Must you always be so independent? Here, allow me.” I stroked the square of white linen gently across her cheeks, then held out the handkerchief for her to take.

She reached up to accept it. Her hand closed about the material with the two
B’s
stitched in one corner and encompassed the ends of my fingers. I looked down into her green eyes, the lashes wet with tears, and felt a strong desire to take Miss Lavender into my arms. I expect it was just the emotion of the moment that stirred these feelings in me.

“Mr. Brummell, sir?” Lord Perry’s man, Hearn, called from the top of the stairs.

Miss Lavender and I drew apart. “What is the news, Hearn?”

The valet descended the stairs to stand in front of us. “Lord and Lady Perry have a son. Mrs. Hoffman is tending to Lady Perry. Her ladyship is not completely out of danger, but her condition is vastly improved. Mrs. Hoffman is confident she can see both Lady Perry and the baby through.”

Miss Lavender smiled, then blew her nose.

“Please offer Lord and Lady Perry my heartiest congratulations,” I said.

Hearn nodded. “Yes, sir. Lord Perry desires me to say that he cannot leave his wife and son at the moment, but that he will send word to you tomorrow. He also asked that Miss Lavender leave the direction of her shelter with me. His lordship wishes to thank both of you.”

Miss Lavender gave the number of the house in New Street where the Haven of Hope is located. We gathered our things and walked out into the night air. Both of us took deep breaths, then laughed the way one sometimes does after trouble has passed.

“I shall hail a hackney and see you home, Miss Lavender,” I said standing on the stone steps.

“All right,” came the reply.

A few minutes later we were travelling along. “You realise what you have done for the Perrys this evening, do you not? I find my admiration for you increases at our every meeting, Miss Lavender.”

She shrugged a shoulder. “If men who call themselves physicians would be open to new ideas, the lives of many other women and children could be saved.”

“Well, I do not pretend to know what ladies discuss when they are without male company, but I should imagine that Lady Perry will extol the virtues of Mrs. Hoffman to her friends.”

“That will be a start,” Miss Lavender said.

“I do hope that you are no longer angry with me for enlisting Lion’s help in finding the thief.” I studied her profile. “Your skin is the most beautiful I think I have ever seen. More translucent than even my finest Sevres porcelain. It almost glows from within. I should dislike being kept from beauty.” This last I said in a light tone, though I meant every word. Freddie’s face suddenly flashed in my mind. I experienced a nagging feeling of guilt, but I told myself I was a bachelor, a man about Town.

Miss Lavender, sitting opposite me, adjusted the brim of her hat. “If that bit of flummery is any example, I can well envision how you’ve charmed your way to the height of Society.”

“You wrong me. Have I been forgiven?”

“Since Lionel came to no harm, I expect so. But you mustn’t involve him in anything like that again.”

“I thought the boy had hopes for employment with Bow Street. He will be exposed to all sorts of dangers if he becomes a constable.”