Page 29 of Indecently Daring

“A right nice welcome home, that was. Comin’ back to find the house all shut up, no fire lit, no grub neither. What you playin’ at? Why you still here? There ain’t no school at this hour, and don’t tell me there is. Bad enough that preachy cove forced me to send you. He tryin’ to steal you off me now, is he? T’ain’t right. T’ain’t natural,” she added with a revolted sniff.

Alana could not have that, indignation rising inside of her.

“Mrs…?” she began coldly, ensuring to use the exact tone that Cat would have done in the circumstances that could wither most people with ease.

Jeb’s mother was made of sterner stuff, however. “Mrs Maby. What’s it to you?”

“Nothing at all, Mrs Maby, only I shall not have a good man slandered. Your son had a traumatic experience and almost drowned and yet you did not come running to his bedside. You only appear now, when the reverend has taken it open himself to invite the child into his home to ensure he is warm and fed. You owe the man a debt of gratitude, not disgusting insinuations.”

“Oh, don’t it talk nice, Jeb?” Mrs Maby said, regarding Alana with a sneer. “Well, he’s my boy. Mine! And ain’t no fancy piece of the vicar’s going to take him off me neither. Come on Jeb, we’re—”

Mrs Maby’s expression morphed into one of fury as the door slammed in her face. She sent Alana a glare that could have stripped the paint from the wood before hammering on the door with her fist.

“Open up, you little bastard. You open up this door and get out here now!”

“I don’t believe he wishes to go with you, Mrs Maby,” Alana said, feeling a swell of animosity towards the woman, the like of which she’d never experienced in her life before.

“No. Course he don’t. Had his head turned, ain’t he? You all turned him against me, against his own flesh and blood. You, all la-di-dah, and that vicar.” She scoffed. “He don’t look like no vicar I ever saw. Ain’t natural, I tell you, a man that looks like that preachin’ and maundering on about God. He’s a wrong ’un, that man. Mark my words.”

With that, Mrs Maby spat on the ground and, with one last glower at Alana, strode back down the path, slamming the garden gate behind her.

Alana let out an uneven breath, only now realising how hard her heart was hammering behind her ribs. Much as she wanted to believe that was the last they would see of Mrs Maby, she was not the least bit convinced. She knocked on the door, calling out to Jeb.

“It’s Miss Cadogan, Jeb. She’s gone now. It’s all right.”

Slowly, the door cracked open, and Jeb appeared, his eyes bloodshot and red. Alana’s heart broke, and she had to swallow down a burst of anger.

“It’s all right, love,” she said gently, and then stumbled back as Jeb flew at her, wrapping his arms about her waist and sobbing.

“Don’t let her take me, Miss. Please. I don’t want to go back. I’ll be good for the vicar. Swear I will. Won’t be no bother.”

“Ah, Jeb. Of course you won’t. There, there, now. Don’t upset yourself. Come along, let’s go back inside and I’ll wait with you until Reverend Martin gets home. How’s that?”

Jeb stared up at her, his cheeks tear-stained and his nose runny. He wasn’t a terribly attractive sight at that moment, but Alana bent and kissed his forehead all the same.

“You’ll stay?” he repeated, as if he couldn’t quite trust her words.

“Until the vicar gets home. Yes. I promise.”

Jeb let out a sigh, the tension draining from him as he leant into Alana like all the stuffing had been kicked out of him. “Come along, my brave lad. I think it’s my turn to make tea, and how about some cake?”

“We ain’t got any cake,” he said listlessly.

“Have you got eggs?”

He nodded.

“And flour and butter and sugar?”

He nodded again, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“Then we shall certainly have cake,” Alana said firmly, and guided him back indoors.

Chapter 10

Mr Martin,

I acknowledge receipt of your last payment which we received on the tenth of this month. Your outstanding account is now settled in full. Thank you for your business.