The lady shot a quick glance to Benjamin before saying, “My younger sister Cassandra had accepted the attention of Mr. Jonas Betts, who promised her marriage, but…” She broke off to dab her eyes again before saying, “Cassandra always thought herself suited for the great house.”
“As your father is of the gentry, the future baron could have extended his hand to Miss Cassandra.” Duncan’s voice carried his strong dislike for such high-spirited behavior. “I assume the child you have been tending to in your sister’s absence belongs to Miss Cassandra and Mr. Betts.”
“Yes, sir,” she said as she lowered her head in apparent shame, though it was nothing Miss Whitchurch had executed.
“It is too bad Lord Betts did not promote the match,” Duncan observed. “The barony would have had an heir.” Duncan sighed heavily, and Benjamin knew his lordship regretted that the Duncan earldom would go to another line of the family tree. “Might you explain where your sister can be found now?”
Miss Whitchurch frowned, but she responded nevertheless. “When I arrived in London, Cassandra was living in less than desirable quarters. I found a room to share in a respectable boarding house. According to my parents, Cassandra was somewhere along five months in January, but I cannot say with any certainty if that is accurate, for my parents are going by what Cassandra told them. She could have been a bit more or a bit less. I do not imagine she had considered the ramifications of her choices nor was it only once that she laid with Mr. Betts. Initially, she was excited to claim a position and support the child. Initially, we were both employed at Mr. Sustar’s shop, but Cassandra spent too much time talking to the menemployed in the shop. Sustar released her, but I remained, as well as spending a day or two per week at a nearby lending library. We rarely saw each other. One day I came home and all her belongings were gone. She left a letter to tell me she had learned of a position in Whitehall.
“Not knowing London well, it took me a long time—longer than it should have to determine she meant to seek employment at the Lyon’s Den. When I encountered Lord Thompson and the others near the Lyon’s Den, I had called upon the establishment’s mistress.” She looked at him. “I apologize, my lord. I saw you leave the lady’s office with another man who proved to be Mr. Hartley, but I did not make myself known to you, for I did not wish you to see me inside a gaming hell. I cherished your kindness on that day in the rain and how you handled Mr. Sustar, and I did not want you to think poorly of me.”
Benjamin nodded his acceptance of her apology, and though there were a hundred things he wished to discuss with her, he permitted the lady to continue her explanation.
“Mrs. Dove-Lyon had refused Cassandra’s bid for employment, but she did say another woman had offered my sister a position as a domestic. That would have been in mid-February or early March. I know Cassandra worked as such for a period, for there was a letter in the bottom of the child’s basket telling me she had worked at a great house for over a month. Supposedly, Cassandra’s employer learned something of her condition and released her. She would have been between seven and eight months at the time.”
“When did she leave the child with you?” Duncan asked.
“Nearly five weeks prior,” Miss Whitchurch explained. “I came home in the early morning hours from working overnight for Mr. Sustar, and there was the child sleeping in a basket. No Cassandra. Only a letter, which I did not read until the following day. I have been working overnight for several months creating special orders for, first, Lady Cunningham, and then several of her ladyship’s friends. Mr.Sustar has hired three different girls who rotate their positions, but they do the hemming while I complete the embroidery work. Mr. Sustar does not want the women in his shop with the young men he employs. The Sustars only initially tolerated me in the shop, for Mrs. Sustar is also the daughter of a clergyman.”
“What of the child?” Benjamin asked. “What do you do with him when you are at work?”
“He goes with me. I do all I may to keep him quiet at the shop and at the boarding house. Neither Mr. Sustar nor Mrs. Holland will tolerate the noise of a crying baby. Fortunately, he is generally a curious baby and is fascinated with the shadows created by the candlelight or a small sack of hard seeds I created to entertain him.”
“You appear to be instinctive on how to tend to the child,” Duncan remarked.
“Before coming to London, I worked at a school for girls in Bath. I simply recalled what soothed some of the younger girls. None of them were as young as a newborn, but some of them had never been away from their parents and were quite frightened.”
“Are you not frightened, Miss Whitchurch?” Duncan asked sagely.
“Petrified,” Miss Whitchurch admitted, and Benjamin realized he had known such fears when he had come to stay with Duncan. At least he had had four young boys to show him the way. Miss Whitchurch had no one, not even the sister she had attempted to save. “I only have four more days to locate Cassandra. Mrs. Holland has demanded I leave with the child when my current tenancy expires.”
“I can honestly say neither my son nor I will permit you to be turned out upon the streets,” Duncan declared in that no nonsense tone that few dared to deny.
Tears returned to the lady’s eyes, but she did not look away from Duncan. “I could not ask it of you, my lord.”
“You did not ask; my family has volunteered,” Duncan corrected. “As I see it, you have two choices. You and the child may come andlive with me at Duncan Place, just as Lord Orson’s betrothed did when her parents were still in Europe and before their marriage.” Benjamin noted how Duncan omitted the fact that Lady Emma had been brutally attacked on the streets of Covent Garden, and he worried that Duncan was jumping the gun about a betrothal, but he kept his comments to himself. “Or you may choose to live in the house attached to this one. Just you and the child.”
“Does Lord Thompson own the adjoining house?” Miss Whitchurch asked with a lift of her eyebrows that spoke of skepticism.
“I imagine he does,” Duncan responded with a grin, for he had led the woman right where he wanted her to be. “My son owns this whole row of houses, along with several other such establishments. He is quite ingenuous in that manner. Our Benjamin wishes for all of humanity, not just the aristocracy, to live comfortably.”
“Would not people speak harshly regarding my acceptance of his lordship’s kindness?” she asked while eyeing Benjamin from the corner of her eye.
“Well, you see,” Duncan began, “I have no doubt, despite my son practicing care, people saw him carry you into his house. But, let us say, Thompson carried you into his house because he no longer has the key to the adjoining one. You took a terrible fall, after all.”
The lady stared at Duncan as if his lordship had grown an additional head. “Everyone will know I cannot afford such an establishment.”
“Everyone knows,” Duncan corrected, “that Thompson has not let the adjoining house, for he prefers his privacy; yet, you are a family friend or even a distant cousin. Both your fathers are vicars. Trust me, most of England’s gentry, as well as the aristocracy are related in some manner. Society will believe what you tell them, as long as you tell them something they wish to hear. Most of thehaut tonknow that our Benjamin has a kind heart so it would be expected of him to assist someone who requires his attention.”
“But I cannot afford such a house,” she argued.
“The house is not finished,” Benjamin rushed to say because he would not mind keeping the lady close. He knew she was truly not prepared for life in London, though she had given it her all. “The rooms are not completely furnished. Only three have furniture, and the pieces are mismatched. I use the house more as storage than for living purposes. You could still work for Mr. Sustar, and Mrs. Sullivan would remain available for the boy. Pay what you do for your current room, if you deem it necessary to pay your way.”
“What my son is attempting to say is your choices are few, Miss Whitchurch. At least, you would have someone to assist you until you might find your sister and make appropriate plans for the child’s care. The boy is the most important thing in your decision, not your pride.” Duncan paused before he asked, “Did Titan provide you the name of the inn where you think your sister has taken employment?”
“Yes,” she said. “It was The Red Rooster.”
“Might you agree to permit me to call at the inn to learn whether your sister is employed there? I promise to ask all the necessary questions. You might even write down what you wish to know, and I will speak for you. That area is not meant for a lady of quality to be traveling alone, especially if you must also carry the child with you. You would be at a great disadvantage there.”
