Escaping Notice (30 page)

“Pray tell who would discuss anything with you, you hussy!
Pretending to be a maid in order to work your way into this
household. I can only assume you did so in hopes of stealing
whatever you can before disappearing,” Miss Esther said in a harsh
voice, trembling with fury. “I doubt you are even related to this
creature.” She pointed to Hugh. “Sister and brother, pah! You're
nothing but a common harlot and thief!”

Taken aback, Helen stared at her before she moved her hand from
Hugh's shoulder to the middle of his broad back. She pushed him
forward. Every muscle in her body ached, and she had not even gone
through half of what Ned — Edward —had. His face, streaked with
dirt and rusty stains that looked suspiciously like blood, appeared
pale and alarmingly fragile. They could not waste time listening to
the Leigh women's vitriol.

Without bothering to address either Miss Esther or Miss Elvira,
Hugh strode forward. Helen followed for a few yards, before
sprinting past him to open the kitchen door. They stepped inside,
ignoring the startled cries as the other servants caught sight of
them. Hugh continued through the room while Helen trailed in his
wake.

She paused briefly in the entrance to the hallway. “Cook, please
send someone to fetch the doctor. Edward is hurt, and I'm unsure
how badly, so he must come quickly.” Then the memory of the
conversation in the yard brought a new realization. “Edward is the
nephew of the earl — the late earl.”
Edward must be the heir and
quite possibly the new earl.
He would never get the chance
to be a sailor now.

His life was about to change dramatically. She hoped he viewed
it as a change for the better.

Unfortunately, given his aunts, it might be infinitely
worse.

She would not want to be left in the care of Miss Elvira, or
Miss Esther, either.

Ahead of her, Hugh boldly kicked open the green baize door. He
headed across the wide marble foyer and up the grand stairway to
the second floor.

“Hugh!” Helen called, thinking dismally of the Leigh sisters.
They would have palpitations. “Where are you going?”

“I'm taking Edward to a proper bedroom.”

“Oh, dear,” Helen sighed.

At the top of the stairs, Hugh turned left only to stop as Miss
Eloise, dressed in her nightdress and shawl, confronted him.

“You found him? What happened?” she asked, her glance taking in
Edward, Hugh and Helen's bedraggled condition. Before Hugh or Helen
could answer, she peered more closely at Edward and moved out of
the way. “He may use the earl's — no, my nephew Lionel's —
bedchamber. Has the doctor been sent for?”

“Yes, Miss Leigh,” Helen answered. “And you should know, Ned is
actually Edward — apparently he ran away from, ah, your sisters. He
wanted to go to sea,” she hastened to explain. “He would not tell
me who his family was. I could not leave him to wander London,
alone.”

“So you adopted him?” Miss Leigh asked, eyeing Helen with a
strange look.

“Yes. I'm terribly sorry. If I had known, I would have brought
him back immediately.”

“Just as well,” Miss Leigh replied. Then a bemused expression
wrinkled her face. “I suppose he's the heir now. And my sisters
will be impossible.”

“Perhaps they need not stay?” Helen asked delicately. “If you
are here ….”

“My health ….” Miss Leigh touched her chest, her eyes sad. “They
will insist.”

Helen touched Miss Leigh's arm when the older woman stood aside
to let Hugh carry Edward into a spacious, masculine bedroom. “Stand
firm, Miss Leigh.”

“If you are here to assist me to care for the boy, perhaps I can
make do.”

“Oh, dear,” Helen said, touched but conscious of a crushing
burden of guilt. “Miss Leigh, I must tell you —”

“Please do not,” Miss Leigh interrupted. She brushed past Helen
and strode into the chamber as Hugh bent to lay Edward on the bed.
“One moment!” She pulled back the coverlet before standing aside
and gesturing for Hugh to place the boy on the bed. “You, Mr.
Caswell, will wait here for the doctor. You do not appear injured.
I trust you have no other pressing engagement.”

Helen glanced at her, surprised at the glint of sardonic humor
in Miss Leigh’s eyes. “And you, Helen, will come with me.”

“But, I —”

“Do not argue. You are a most impertinent maid.”

“Yes, Miss Leigh.” With a last glance at Edward and Hugh, she
followed Miss Leigh to the door.

“There will be enough work for the doctor with Edward to care
for,” Miss Leigh said as they walked the short distance to her
bedroom. “And I cannot have you bleeding all over the
carpeting.”

Helen glanced down, appalled to find her dress torn and
besmirched with dirt and blood. Every inch of her ached. “There is
no need to worry, Miss Leigh. It looks much worse than it is.”

“Nonsense. I have a good eye and tolerably steady hand. You must
have those splinters removed.” Again, that strange glint appeared
in her eyes. “After all the pain you have caused me, I feel it only
fair to return the favor.”

Helen laughed tiredly. Unfortunately, her situation did not seem
quite so amusing when Miss Leigh opened a drawer and removed a
small blue bottle and her wicker sewing case.

Catching Helen's unhappy gaze, Miss Leigh gave a small smile.
“Tincture of lavender. I have never had a wound grow putrid when I
have used this.”

“Lovely,” Helen replied in a faint voice.

Nothing she could say would dissuade Miss Leigh from plying one
of her sharps to remove the splinters. She attacked the one just
under Helen's collarbone first. It was everything Helen could do
not to scream as Miss Leigh bent over her and scraped the skin away
with her needle to free a tiny piece of wood.

When Miss Leigh finished removing the slivers on both sides of
Helen's hips, Helen felt shaky with exhaustion. She watched with
dull interest as Miss Leigh saturated a handful of lint with the
astringent tincture of lavender, filling the room with the fresh,
floral scent. With a surprisingly gentle touch, she washed each
wound, before dressing it with a clean wad of cotton.

“You will not leave now, will you?” Miss Leigh asked,
re-assembling her sewing kit.

Helen got the distinct impression that Miss Leigh was using the
activity to avoid looking at her.

She touched Miss Leigh's tremulous hand. “I am sorry, Miss
Leigh. I wish I could stay, I really do. I wish we could all
continue on as we have — you don’t know how desperately I would
like to do just that.”

“Then do so,” Miss Leigh said. “Edward will be grateful, I am
sure. It will not be easy for him. He must be trained for his new
responsibilities.”

“I wish I could. But you see, I did something very silly.”

“A wager?”

Helen blushed. “No. Not that.”

“However, you are a lady and not a lady's maid.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“While you are a kind girl, you are not precisely obedient. Or
self-effacing.”

“I — I ….” Helen's words wobbled to a halt as she remembered all
the times she had bit her tongue and pretended she was not in the
room. If that was not being subservient, she did not know what
was.

“Oh, you tried.” Mrs. Leigh laughed. “But you were not bred to
it. One can tell, even if one has not had a lady's maid for a
number of years. So if this was not a wager, what was it? Just a
grand adventure, I suppose.”

“No.” Helen shook her head, wishing she had waited to confess in
the morning. She shifted, tiredly trying to ease her aching
muscles. “I wish I were bold enough to dream up such an adventure.
No, it is quite dismally foolish. I attended the earl's ball. And
while I was here, I lost the Peckham necklace — that emerald
necklace I found the other morning.” It seemed years ago since she
had discovered the jewels.

“But why not just ask for it?”

Helen smiled and shook her head. “The silliest of reasons. I did
not want anyone to know I was so foolish as to lose the necklace
the first time I was allowed to wear it. After begging my sister
for an entire season, she finally lent it to me. And I lost it. I
could not face confessing to her. I just could not.”

“You could have come and asked. It is not the sort of thing we
would have advertised.”

“I know.” Helen blushed and glanced down at her torn dress.
“However, I was afraid everyone would think I had set my cap at the
earl if I returned with so obvious an excuse.” To her surprise, she
felt the strong urge to cry. “Particularly after I heard Miss
Peyton had eloped. Everyone was so sure the earl would announce
their engagement.”

Miss Leigh reached out and grasped Helen's hands, giving them a
squeeze. “And now?”

“I don’t know,” Helen admitted, her chest tightening.

“And I suppose Mr. Caswell is not really your brother?”

A hot tear escaped, stinging a path over her cheek. “No. He is
an inquiry agent. And I am afraid I may never see him again.”

“Well, you can hardly —” Miss Leigh halted abruptly, her eye
searching Helen's face. “He is an inquiry agent, not a gentleman.
You are a lady. You cannot ruin yourself, unless ….” She gave
Helen's hands another squeeze. “Are you worried for your
reputation? There is nothing to fear. You have been visiting me the
whole time. No one shall say otherwise.”

“No, that's not it. I am — I love him.”

“You love him?” Miss Leigh replied as if the concept was beyond
her understanding. “That is unfortunate. It will ruin you, you
know. Socially.”

“My family would never approve.”

“They could hardly approve of what you are doing now, so I fail
to see how that could possibly weigh with you.”

“Oh. Well, this is not permanent, you see. And they were never
to discover where I had been. I told them I was visiting a
relative.”

“And you can hardly 'visit relatives' for the rest of your life.
It is too bad the earl did not meet you prior to his infatuation
with Miss Peyton. You might have suited one another. Neither one of
you has the least sense.” She paused before mumbling a correction,
“Had.”

Helen shook her head. “I have never wanted to marry a peer,
although my family was desperate for me to do so. In fact, truth be
told, I would be happier living in the country with a farmer. No
witty, sparkling dinners to host, no social standing and reputation
to worry over. While I have not precisely enjoyed being a maid, I
have grown to appreciate the complete absence of any requirement to
be intelligent or charming.”

“I cannot say that I have ever worried overmuch about being
either witty or charming.” Miss Leigh laughed bitterly. “Though I
suppose one might claim that is also why I am an old spinster
living on sufferance in the earl's household. However, you, young
lady, need never worry about charm. And what, pray tell, is your
name?”

“Helen Archer.”

“So. How shall we proceed?”

“I don’t know,” Helen replied. “I don’t want to leave any of
you, but I honestly don’t see an alternative.”

“Then you shall just have to remain here for a few days as my
guest. At least until Edward is out of danger. You know that child
loves you. He will ask for you when he wakes up.”

Helen turned away, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears. “I
hope so. I sincerely do.”

“…
he ought to be a man of great experience in household affairs
….” —
The Complete Servant

Hugh studied Edward's pallid face as the doctor worked on him.
Then Hugh picked up the torn, dusty jacket and folded it before
placing it on the chest of drawers. Something clanked in one of the
pockets.

The necklace.

Blocking the doctor's view with his back, Hugh slipped the
jewels out of Edward's pocket and into his own. Then he put the
tattered garment back on the chest. He turned back just as the
doctor finished probing Edward's leg with his thick fingers.
Thankfully, the boy remained unconscious while the physician
ruthlessly jerked his ankle back into alignment.

It was odd to think he had not recognized Edward Brown-Leigh as
his nephew. He had certainly received enough letters over the years
with long, detailed descriptions of the lad's misbehavior. The boy
even had the mischievous eyes of Hugh's much-missed, younger
sister.

He should have sent for him long before this and not left him to
the merciless, bitter care of the two Leigh sisters. Experience
with Miss Eloise should have warned him that women were not always
the best guardians for an orphaned boy.

He ran a hand through his hair. So many careless mistakes.
Thoughtless.

Then he remembered the unexpected humor in Aunt Eloise's eyes.
Things were not entirely hopeless. She had certainly changed,
thanks to Helen's beneficial influence. Or had he misread his aunt
all along?

Lionel had always been pleased to sit with her and talk or play
cards. Maybe that was why she had loved Lionel so much. His
patience was certainly to his credit, and Hugh always believed it
was a good sign for Lionel's choice of profession.

Except for his weakness for gambling.

And as he studied Edward, Hugh’s shoulders slumped with sudden
weariness. He rubbed his face, wishing he could rub away his
memories.

He had missed so many things. He sat heavily in a chair near the
bed. He should have realized it earlier. If he had, he would never
have involved Second Sons.

But something in him refused to believe he knew the answer now.
Not until he spoke to his aunt. Unfortunately, no matter what came
out of the interview, one thing was clear: he had failed in his
duty to almost everyone around him.

He had failed to listen to their concerns, failed to recognize
when things grew unbearable. His own peaceful, well-ordered
existence had held all his attention. No wonder Miss Peyton had
left him, just as Helen would soon enough.