AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Many thanks, Mrs. Glasse,” said Mr. Blume, bobbing a bow. “They will be delighted for the treat, I’m sure.”
Appropriating one of the work tables at the back of the room where it was a bit cooler, Harriett bade her guest sit while they were served.
Mr. Blume took a forkful of dense, buttery cake. His expression transformed to one of rapture. “Have you given any thought to how his lordship will react when he finds out the person who has been running this place in his absence is a woman?” he asked finally.
“I have,” she answered, enjoying his reaction to the cake. It really was delicious. “And I believe it would be best to make myself scarce when he comes to visit. You will send word to warn me of his anticipated arrival, won’t you?”
“Of course, my lady. But what excuse shall I give His Grace for your absence?”
“Tell him...tell him my wife is ill and I have gone to see to her care. That should suffice.”
“As you say, my lady,” he said, nodding. “Now, as to the improvements you’ve outlined in these documents—”
“The workers have been on standby, as well. I shall have them begin the renovations first thing in the morning. One must make hay while the sun shines, and I want those improvements well underway before His Grace’s visit.”
The solicitor shook his head and laughed. “You would have made an impressive general, my lady. You’ve a talent for staying ahead of your opponent.”
Her cheeks grew warm. Such praise was rare these days. Only William had ever been so open in his admiration of her abilities. “My talent may be accounted for simply by virtue of knowing my enemy.”
“How I wish the previous Lord Manchester had lived long enough to marry you,” said the man, bowing his head. “Then there would be no need for subterfuge.”
“I, too, find it distasteful to resort to such methods. For my part, I wish the current duke were a better man so that it would not be necessary, but we must make do with what we are given.” She shook off her bitterness and smiled. “And today, we have been given a reprieve. Indeed, we have been given an unexpected, bountiful blessing. One I do not intend to waste. Come again in a week, Mr. Blume, and you shall learn the meaning of industry.”
He smiled back at her. “I shall, and with great pleasure and anticipation, my lady.”
Once their repast was finished and the conversation at an end, she saw him to the door. In his arms was a large basket containing a sampling of Mrs. Glasse’s best treats—including several of the small, brick-shaped “pound” cakes. His family, particularly the young ones, would be most appreciative. It was small compensation for his many kindnesses.
Mr. Blume was a dear. Since William’s death, the man had run interference for her with the current Lord Manchester. It had been at his suggestion that she’d taken the pseudonym “R. Dun” in order to facilitate business transactions between them. By this strategy, combined with the new duke’s complete disregard for his responsibilities, she’d managed to evade him thus far.
Unfortunately, that blessed time had come to an end. At least for now. Still, His Grace was only obliged to visit the premises in person twice a year. As long as she continued to manage things efficiently, he would have no reason to visit more often. She would see to it the place shone by the time he deigned to cross its threshold.
She entered the Administrator’s office—William’s office, had he been here—and stared for a moment at his portrait. Set in an ornate gold-gilt frame, it was a fine piece, far better than she’d expected to receive from the current Lord Manchester when the request had been put forth.
Gazing into William’s kindly blue eyes, she sighed. He always seemed to be smiling at her with gentle approval. “It has been a hard year, my love,” she whispered. “But matters are about to improve. I will not fail you.”
She’d done her best to carry on his work and felt she’d been fairly successful, especially given the shortages at times. The other governors had eventually given her their seal of approval, along with enough funds to make ends meet—just. Even so, she’d done better than many a male counterpart might have with more.
Looking down, she smiled at the crumbs still clinging to her skirt and brushed them away. If people were loath to give of their purses directly, at least there were those who gave in some other form. The cake today was the result of a special gift of flour and sugar from the Duchess of Montrose—enough to bake several dozen of Mrs. Glasse’s new cakes with plenty left over. Thanks to her generosity, the children would have fresh bread for several months and enough sugar for their tea to last even longer, if properly stored and used sparingly.
Last year, she’d garnered a gift of soft gray flannel from Lady Roxburghe. It had been plain, but plentiful—enough to keep fifty-three children warm through the winter. What mattered the color, so long as it kept a body from freezing?
Lancashire coal from Lord and Lady Crawford.
Turnips and barley, each in their respective season, from Lady Townsend.
Forty new woolen blankets from Sir Danby. He’d sent them after adopting a young boy from the Hospital. His wife had sent her a private gift of their finest merino as personal thanks, as well. It had made a lovely cloak.
Great wheels of Somerset cheddar from Mr. Waxle
y.
Cast-off furnishings from any number of benefactors throughout the year.
In truth, she’d been blessed with kind connections. Without them, she would have had to turn away some of those most in need.
With all her heart she hoped Arabella’s condition remained a secret, lest she lose those connections and bring harm to the Hospital and its small charges. Her sister’s fall from grace had the potential of damaging far more than her good name. If the worst happened, she would have little choice but to leave in order to save William’s legacy from the taint of her family’s scandal.
Not for the first time, anxiety made Harriett chew her lip. Her chief worry should be the care of these children, not her sister’s foolishness. To receive the censure of Society over the sins of another seemed unjust in the extreme, but that was how it would be. Arabella—and her father and unwed sisters with her—would suffer complete ostracism.
