They entered the room and watched as Nurse rubbed salve on the bites. Henrietta shuddered. How anyone could allow that to happen to any child, especially one so young, she could not comprehend.
“It appears you were right to go and get her,” Dotty said.
Merton nodded in agreement.
Henrietta dearly wanted to hold the baby, but she knew better than to allow herself to become attached. She’d done that once before, and it had broken her heart to have to give the child up. No more holding infants except when they were being rescued. No more feeding and playing with them. Now she forced herself to keep her hands and arms and heart to herself.
They repaired to Merton’s study, where she made herself comfortable on the plush leather chair. Her sister sat on the sofa.
Merton handed them glasses of wine before joining his wife. “Tell us exactly what happened.”
She told him the complete story. “We were lucky the gentleman came along.”
The whole time she had given her account, she could feel her sister’s eyes on her. Dotty took a sip of wine. “It is a shame we do not know who he is.”
“I doubt we ever will.” Henrietta had the same wish, but knew it would never be realized. He could live anywhere in the country. “I expect he will depart for his home by tomorrow.”
She was glad she’d gone, but she was pretty sure today was the last time she would be allowed to go alone.
Merton cleared his throat. “We can’t depend upon the intervention of helpful strangers. I shall have to ensure that more than one footman is available to assist you if this occurs again.” He gave her a pointed look over his glass. “However, I do not want you to make a habit of it. This is just the sort of thing gossips will latch on to. I will also see about hiring someone to assist Mrs. Perriman.”
Henrietta had not considered the possibility of gossip. Part of her wanted to protest, say she did not care, but being involved in a scandal was never pleasant. “You are right, of course.”
He gave Dotty a smug smile, and she stared at the ceiling. “Please do not tell him that too often. It took his mother and me a long time to convince him even he was fallible.”
Henrietta grinned. She had heard how stuffy Merton had been before falling in love with her sister. “I shall endeavor not to.” Setting down her glass, she rose. “I suppose I should change for dinner.”
“We shall see you in the drawing room,” Merton said.
“Until then.” Henrietta wondered what would happen if it got around that she had rescued a child without her sister or brother-in-law being present.
Her parents would be proud of her, especially her father. But he was probably the exception rather than the rule. Papa had been a vicar before his elder brother died, leaving him the baronetcy. And he had what some considered to be radical views on what reforms should be made to help others. He did not even believe the peerage should exist. Yet that brought up an interesting point when it came to any gentleman she might wed. Whoever the gentleman was, he would have to agree that she could remain involved in her sister’s charitable work, even if it meant rescuing children herself. That alone was bound to limit the number of men she could consider. Her thoughts drifted back to the gentleman who had assisted her. Unfortunately, there was no point thinking about him. If he was not already on the road out of London, he soon would be.
* * *
Nate glanced back over his shoulder, but the lady’s coach was already turning around. When she’d first faced him with her brows imperiously raised, he’d thought she was Dotty Stern, but that was impossible. Miss Stern had married the Marquis of Merton shortly after Nate had left Town four years before. Surely Merton would not allow his wife to engage in that type of activity. Also, the lady looked like Miss Stern had four years ago.
Whoever she was, she was beautiful. Her hair was as black as night, and her eyes appeared as if they might be light. But what struck him most was her courage. He’d never met a female who had so little fear of using a weapon to shoot a man. Yet even though she was a lady—a fact that had been clear once she’d abandoned her country accent—she was not dressed like a female who would be attending the Season. The cloth was good enough, but the styling was not that of a London modiste. At one time, when he’d been a well-known Dandy, those things had actually mattered to him. He was still able to recognize the differences, but he didn’t care about them anymore. Now, he was much more interested in the person instead of the way they dressed.
Yet, because he was a gentleman and she was a lady, he could not insult her by introducing himself. That was unfortunate.
He hoped the infant lived. Most babes would have given a loud screech when tossed. This one had only a small, pathetic cry.
Her carriage traveled up the street at a smart pace, and he went around to the door of his coach and found Mr. Odell, Miss Bywater, and her child already inside. “I see you are ready to leave.”
“We are.” Odell’s smile was wider than Nate had ever seen it as he gazed at the infant in his arms. “Emily has agreed to be our daughter, just as if she and John had wed.”
Emily’s tears were gone and she too was smiling broadly. “From now on I am Emily Odell.”
“What is the child’s name?” Nate climbed into the coach.
“John for his father. Papa”—she looked shyly at Mr. Odell—“said that he was to have the same rights as if John and I had married.”
That did not surprise Nate at all. Odell and his wife had several daughters, all of whom had married well, and one remaining son. The younger son was studying to be a lawyer and had taken little interest in the farm. And there were no entailments to stop Odell and his wife from leaving the property as they wished.
Today had definitely been a good day. Nate returned her smile. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Papa”—Nate was pleased to see how comfortable she was calling Odell “Papa.” But she would have known them fairly well. Nate briefly wondered why she hadn’t gone to the Odells in the first place, but not only was it water under the bridge, it wasn’t his business—“told me how hard you looked for me,” Emily said as the coach started. “If I live to be a hundred, I don’t think I’ll find a lord as good as you are.”
