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Averil smiled. “Why don’t you come and have something to eat and drink, and I will send a note around to your home to say you’re here and safe?”
Eustace thought that was a good idea, and chattered away as he followed Averil into the parlor.
For the next hour Beth was on the edge of her seat, worried he’d drop crumbs on the floor, but Averil enjoyed the informality of Eustace’s visit. It occurred to her that she didn’t often have visitors, and when she did it was Gareth on charity business, or acquaintances who were not really friends. There were her friends from the Husband Hunters Club but at the moment they all seemed busy with their own lives. By nature she was no social butterfly, and Eustace was a breath of fresh air.
“What do you do when you’re at home?” she asked him, sipping her tea, and trying not to notice when he slipped Hercules half a sandwich.
“In Mayfair, do you mean? I have a tutor who comes three days a week, and I’m supposed to do my own studies in between. Mostly I play with Freddie, the housekeeper’s boy. He knows all sorts of places to play belowstairs.”
“I’ll bet he does,” Beth murmured.
“When I’m at Southbrook Castle I have a tutor, too, and I go riding or play in the garden. Papa is mostly in London, or he was until . . .” He stopped, his face changing. Averil, watching him, could tell something had happened to upset him, but she didn’t feel she could probe. “Uncle James is good fun,” he ended the conversation by taking a huge bite of cake, while Hercules, watching, whimpered.
After they’d finished, Beth suggested he take Hercules out into the garden, and the two women watched him from the window.
“He’s a lonely boy,” Averil said. “He seems very isolated. I wonder why he hasn’t been sent away to school?”
“Perhaps his father prefers him to be taught at home? And the isolation might come from Lord Southbrook’s position in society. Or out of it. I imagine it would be difficult for the boy to form suitable friendships when his father is not received.”
Averil knew Beth was right, but she felt sorry for Eustace, and apart from that she liked him. His pale, narrow face was enough like his father’s to make her wonder if Lord Southbrook had been very like this as a child. He still had those ridiculously long eyelashes, just like his son’s.
“It’s a pity I can’t do something to help,” she murmured thoughtfully to herself.
“Averil.” Beth’s voice sounded a warning. “Please don’t interfere. Lord Southbrook and his family are really nothing to do with you.”
“I know,” Averil replied, with a wry smile, “and I know I mustn’t interfere, but I feel as if there must be something I can do for Eustace.”
Beth shook her head. “Look what happened when you offered to help Doctor Simmons with his charity? Next thing you were roped in to all manner of activities, and he treats you as if you were a slave. You should be going out to parties and balls and picnics. You should be enjoying yourself, Averil.”
Averil hadn’t heard Beth hold forth quite that bluntly before. “You don’t like Gareth very much, do you, Beth?”
Her companion looked guilty. “I’m sorry. I know you hoped—”
But Averil was quick to reassure her. “I understand. Actually, I’m not quite as impressed with Gareth as I used to be, either. I know he does his best, and his heart is in the right place, but sometimes . . . well, I think he has things all wrong where the distressed women are concerned.”
“And then there was Hercules,” Beth said. “I know you felt compelled to save him from his cruel owner, but he is rather big for our small house. I’m in a constant flap, Averil, wondering what you will try to save next.”
Averil didn’t know what she could say to that, but it turned out she didn’t have to say anything, because just then the knocker rattled on the front door. A moment later the maid came in to let them know that the Honorable James Blainey was hoping for a word.
“Oh dear,” Beth sighed, “more of Lord Southbrook’s family, I presume? Should we receive him?”
Averil smiled. “He’s probably come for Eustace.”
“Then we should definitely receive him.”
Averil glanced out of the window at Eustace, his face flushed, his hair wild, romping with the dog. He looked completely happy. Beth was right, she was always trying to save things. And people. Perhaps it had something to do with her mother abandoning her when she was a child. But if she could ease Eustace of some o
f his loneliness then she would. And if she could help his father back from the outer edges of society, then she’d do that, too.
The Tin Soldier was a different proposition by day. Grimy and dirty, paint peeling from the walls, and stinking of the night’s activities. The doors were firmly closed, but Rufus hammered on them until a sleepy-looking boy opened them.
“What you want, gov’ner?” he demanded. “We don’ open up till later.”
“I believe there’s a man called Jackson here,” Rufus said, placing his shoe in the gap between door and jamb to stop the boy closing it. “I need to see him.”
The boy’s eyes weren’t so sleepy now.
“I know he’s here,” Rufus said, and reaching into his pocket drew out some coins. “Let me in.”
