Rosalind nodded. She’d been strongly lectured when she’d broached the idea to Mr. Clayborne. He’d warned her that she was not to go believing old Greek myths ahead of her bible. But then, Mr. Clayborne also thought Fordyce’s sermons were the height of good sense, so what did he know?
“Viola, what you say is that the fates will assist me when I assist myself?” Rosalind asked. It was an intriguing idea, though she was not certain how to put such a thing into action.
“It could not hurt, I do not think,” Miss Mayton said.
That was very true. She just must think of a way to help herself.
Rosalind suddenly set her teacup down with a clatter. “Goodness, I have not told you of everything that occurred last evening! Viola, I have metyourgentleman.”
Viola sat back. “Mine? How? Who is he? How did you know?”
“He is the Earl of Baderston, he is a genial fellowandhe has lovely copper-colored hair and is determined to like ham as much as you do. He is exceedingly genial and seemed very struck by my description of you.”
“That does sound promising,” Viola said.
“I told him we planned to often go out in the carriage to the park and he is to know that you are the lightest-haired among us so he would know who you are.”
“Goodness!” Viola said. “That means I might well get a look at him.”
“Oh, I think you will. He said he often goes to the park too.”
“We ought to go this afternoon,” Miss Mayton said. “Who knows who we will encounter or what might happen. We might see the duke or Lord Baderston or both.”
“And an opportunity to help myself help Conbatten do something courageous might present itself,” Rosalind said. “We must be on alert at all times and not allow an opportunity to pass us by.”
Rosalind sighed happily. Being a lady out in society was so thrilling. Her future was at hand, and it was a happy future indeed.
Her dear, darling Conbatten.
I await your bravery, Duke.
*
Shrimps had reallyrather have stayed behind in the countryside. Faversham Hall was so peaceful! He and Oyster were so calm there—he had got well-used to what Cook expected from him and Oyster liked to go out in the garden and chase rabbits.
The only upset that had happened all summer was the morning Oyster had actually caught a rabbit. The dog had panicked, Shrimps had panicked, and the rabbit had panicked and then lain still.
Cook had come out to investigate the ruckus, declared the rabbit only in shock, and then said he would dispatch him and broil him up.
At that idea, Shrimps had really panicked, which had made Oyster really panic. The end result was they had nursed the rabbit back to health, with Shrimps feeding it bits of lettuce and carrots from the kitchen and Oyster licking its face as encouragement.
The rabbit had since been set free to live its life and hopefully forget all about that terrible morning in the garden.
Though Shrimps would very much like to stay behind, it could not be so. Most of Lord Van Doren’s household was moving to Portland Place for the season and Cook said he could not do without him.
He understood why. Nobody could peel a potato faster, nobody could chop as many onions without crying. As for his kneading of dough, well, there could not be a person in the whole of England who put so much muscle into it, even though he didn’t have much muscle to work with.
He liked making Cook happy. But he did not like London. He did not like the people he used to know there. He did not like that he might run into one of them. Or that they’d come looking for him.
The workhouse had been bad enough, but then his mother died and it got even more difficult. With no parent to shield him, he’d been knocked around a lot. He’d escaped, only to fall into even worse circumstances. Before he knew it, he was expected to go about stealing out of gentlemen’s pockets. He’d been terrible at it and been warned by the boy who ran the room he slept in that he’d better figure it out or he would be thrown out to starve.
Then, very unexpectedly, he’d been rescued by Lord Van Doren.
Shrimps was well aware that some of those boys knew he’d been taken into Lord Van Doren’s house. He’d seen them follow the lord to Portland Place that first night. When the butler had tried to take him to the stables to sleep, he’d had a panicked fit. It would be too easy for them to get him out of there and make him come back to the room in the Rats’ Castle.
Oyster had panicked that night too. Dogs had a sense for when danger was around and the dog had spent a good few weeks barking at windows. They’d been out there, lurking around, he was sure. Barney especially. He was the lead boy and a terrifying person.
Barney would not like for anybody to get away. He’d worry that a person might tell tales, though Shrimps had told none. The man who ran the whole operation, the man in charge of Barney, spent money on food and clothes and did not like to find he’d poured money down a drain.
