Page 9 of A Rogue to Ensnare

While Susan bathed, Siobhan set the cut-up chicken to boil along with chopped carrots and potatoes. She’d had to persuade Cook to teach her to make simple meals, though once she knew why Siobhan wanted to learn, she often prepared the ingredients ahead of time. She’d have to tell Cook that the widow shared what they brought each week. She knew she’d be willing to prepare even more food to give to the little family. Charity wasn’t something she found shameful, and she appreciated that Siobhan was willing to give what she could to those less fortunate.

As Siobhan worked on the meal, the oldest children stood at the doorway and watched with rapt attention. She knew it wasn’t just for the good stew that they waited, but she enjoyed stretching out their anticipation. When it seemed like they were about to explode with anticipation, she brought out the bag of sweets she’d purchased at the market just as she did every week. Predictably, they squealed with delight and her heart warmed at how such a simple thing could bring the little unfortunates such enjoyment. She held up the bag. “You may choose one each. I will give you one more after you eat, and then I’ll give the bag to your Mama to save for the week.”

The sweets disappeared into their greedy mouths, and then they returned to the bedroom where Emily and Sarah played with rag dolls Henriette had made for them and Billy lined the toy horse Siobhan had bought him this week up with the others she’d given him in the “stable” he’d created under the bed.

“How do you feel?” Siobhan asked the much-too-thin mother. “Have you been eating?”

“I eat thick porridge every day,” Susan assured. “Beans and bread as well. But I can only eat it a little bit at a time, or I get sick.”

“A doctor should see you,” Siobhan stated. “Perhaps your neighbor will look after the bairns, and I can take you to the clinic.”

“I am feeling much better. There is no need,” Susan replied. Still, although she tried to sound strong, her voice was barely above a whisper.

They remained for a while longer. Once the children were seated and eating, Siobhan and Henriette went about sweeping the bedrooms and ensuring the beds were bug free. After, they placed the leftover food into a smaller pot, washed the dishes, and poured out the bath water. Henriette sat down and braided the girl’s hair, while Siobhan rubbed liniment into the sick woman’s back and shoulders. As she did so, she observed the woman’s bony frame, her protruding ribs, and even the bumps in her spine. There was no denying that Susan was incapable of providing for her small family but without family for her to rely on, there wasn’t much they could do and no place for the children except for the workhouse, a place none of them wanted to consider. “Are you sure there is no one who can help you? Take you in?” Siobhan asked. It was not the first time she’d asked, promising to find a parent, sibling or even her dead husband’s family. But each time Susan insisted there was no one who could or would help.

They’d left her in a chair to watch over her children as they played on the now-clean floor. The woman seemed to be getting weaker by the week. There had to be something they could do.

“We must get you to see a doctor. When was the last time you were treated?” Siobhan asked.

The woman’s lips curved into a soft smile. “Not since the last time you brought me, Miss.”

“I will see about it then.” Satisfied that all that could be done was, Siobhan called the oldest child over. “Emily, this food is meant to last as long as possible, so do not gobble it up.” She pointed to the bread and cheese, instructing her how to portion it for the week. She then helped her to portion it out and talked to her until she was sure the girl understood what she needed to do to keep them all fed if not completely full.

Then she spoke to Susan. “We are leaving enough items for some mutton stew and porridge. Have the woman that helps cook it over the next few days.”

“I will. God bless you, I do not know how I could do without you.” The sick woman’s eyes were shiny with tears. “You are angels.”

Perhaps, Siobhan thought, but she wished she had the power of an angel to do more for the struggling family. After placing a couple coins on the tabletop for coal and whatever else they’d need, both she and Henriette left.

Just before exiting onto the street, Siobhan spotted a familiar-looking lord through the glass panels in the door, sitting on his horse by the carriage.

She froze. Obviously, not expecting her sudden stop, Henriette bumped into her. But that didn’t matter. What did was—was it really him?

It wasn’t possible. Was it? Why was he here, really?

“What is it?” Henriette asked, leaning to peer over her shoulder, and follow her line of sight. “Oh! C’est lui. Lord Miles!”

Although he was there, a part of her brain didn’t comprehend the sight of him. He was so very out of place as he guided his fine riding horse closer to the carriage and spoke to the driver. While speaking, he looked in their direction, seeming to see them through the dirty glass.

“What in the world is he doing here?” Siobhan asked in a whisper.

“I believe you mentioned on the way here that you’d told him where you’d be this morning,” Henriette replied with a laugh in her voice. “He came.”

“Well then…he is late, and I told him I’d be at the shelter and the market.” Siobhan turned away from the window. “The shelter worker must have told him we’d be here. If he tells anyone about us being here, our mothers will forbid us from ever returning.”

“You must speak to him,” Henriette told her with a pinched expression. “Beg him not to speak a word of it.”

It was bad enough that Henriette’s brother knew what they did and agreed to look the other way, but it was a totally different matter that Miles Johnstone would now know. She was sure he’d not approve and—like her mother—would ask questions about why they didn’t send servants to do their charity work.

They thought about waiting until he rode away, but it didn’t appear that he was leaving anytime soon. In fact, he’d dismounted and stood beside his horse with the reins in his fist. He wasn’t going anywhere. As much as it broke her heart, they had no choice but to leave the building and confront him.

They made their way to the carriage. Prepared for what was sure to be an exhausting exchange, she motioned to the driver. “I will be a few moments. Pick me up at the tea shop around the corner.”

With purposeful steps, she walked to where Miles stood managing to be a picture of calm gentility even in the dirty, busy street. Despite the anxiety gnawing at her stomach, Siobhan could not stop herself from admiring him. Tall, well-built, and finely dressed in dark brown and riding boots, he was so utterly handsome.

She lifted her chin, attempting to appear dismissive and not seem to be overwhelmed by his attractive appearance. “My lord, I did not expect to see you.”

He touched the brim of his riding hat, while his eyes locked with hers. “Miss Blair. I didn’t expect that you would be inside such a place.” He looked from her to the building across the cobblestoned street. “A tenement, of sorts?”