Tenacious Trents 01 - A Misguided Lord (16 page)

“
If I may, Lord Bentley.”
Peter stepped forward.

“
No you may not,” Thomason
barked at the young man.

“
Yes, you may, Peter.”
Clayton glared at Thomason.

“
Theo dropped the bundling
because David got tangled in the thread and would have been injured
had Theo not come to his aid. I know we are not to leave it in the
aisles, but Theo was only trying to help.”

Bentley nodded his head in
understanding.

“
He was derelict in his
duties,” Thomason argued.

“
I have had enough from
you.” Clayton turned on the man. “If you are wise, you would hold
your tongue.” He turned back to Peter.

“
I begged Thomason to give
Isaac a day off but he refused.”

Clayton looked around at the group of
young men. They were hard workers and not one had been a
troublemaker. Each had been disciplined on occasion. After all,
boys would be boys, but never this harshly. A Saturday afternoon
doing chores while the others played usually brought them back into
line. He was sickened by what he had walked into and further
sickened that Miss Westin had seen it as well. But, that was not
the problem at hand. Thomason was.

“
You said David was in
danger at the looms? Which David?”

“
It was I, sir.” A small
voice came from behind him. It was young David, who couldn’t have
been over five years old.

“
What were you doing at the
looms? Aren’t you supposed to sort the wool?” This boy could barely
see what he was doing, let alone do the required task. The boy
pointed a finger at Thomason. “He made me.”

“
You little brat. You’re
lucky you have a job. Otherwise you would be pinching purses.”
Thomason started toward the boy, willow switch raised in his right
hand. The lad quickly escaped to hide behind the bigger
boys.

Clayton glared at Thomason. “You shall
return to your quarters. I will call you when I wish to speak with
you.”

“
Allow me to explain and
you will understand.”

“
You will have your
chance,” Clay assured him coldly. “At this moment however, I am
much too angry to stomach the sight of you.”

“
Peter, please join me in
my office.” He looked at the group. “The rest of you, toss the
ruined wool and then wash up for the meal. You’re finished for the
day. Apparently there are matters that need to be sorted
out.”

He marched out in silence, leaving
Miss Westin to trail behind. He should show her more consideration,
but rage boiled in his veins. He had never been moved to violence
before and it took every ounce of strength he had not to strike
Thomason. Had he hit him once, Clayton was afraid he wouldn’t stop
before the man was dead. He clenched and unclenched his fists, and
kept his jaw locked for fear what words might fly out of his mouth.
He would not curse in front of the children or Miss Westin. He was
always in control, never lost his temper, other than when he argued
with John. This was an entirely new experience. When they reached
the house Bentley paused and waited for Miss Westin to catch up to
him. “I apologize.”

She simply nodded, her mouth set,
brows furrowed with concern.

“
Would you please wait for
me in the parlor?”

“
Of course.” She touched
his hand for but a moment then walked past. Her delicate fingers
had an odd calming effect and Bentley could finally take a
breath.

*

Eleanor stopped in the parlor and
looked around. The sound of a door shutting down the hall brought
her out of the room. She would love to know what was being said but
not as much as she would like to hear the audience with Thomason.
If that man didn’t lose his job then she would never speak to
Bentley again.

Who was she fooling? Eleanor returned
to the room and sank down onto the settee. The manager may get a
dressing down but would not lose his job. It was the way of the
world for orphans. She could only hope he thought twice before
taking a switch to one of them again.

The doctor arrived while she was still
waiting. Though she hadn’t been invited, she followed the older man
into the kitchen. Though the boy’s backs had been tended to, the
hand was beyond Mrs. Nevil’s expertise.

“
It will need to be
stitched.” Dr. Morway was saying after he cleaned the wound.
Eleanor knew him as he also tended her family when ill and
injured.

Isaac’s eyes grew large and terrified.
Eleanor couldn’t stand it and stepped forward.

“
It is not so bad, Isaac.”
She sat down next to him. “It will hurt a little, I won’t lie to
you, but nothing in comparison to what mean old Thomason has
done.”

“
Really?” The boy searched
her eyes for reassurance.

“
Truly.” Eleanor rolled up
her sleeve. She then exposed her inner arm to the child. “See this?
I fell off of a fence when I was about your age. Dr. Morway put in
a dozen stitches.” She glanced at the older man when he chuckled.
“Do you know how many that is?”

“
Twelve,” Isaac answered
proudly.

“
Yes. See, I am now fine,
so you will be too.”

“
Will I have a scar, like
you?” He asked in admiration.

“
Probably.” Having younger
brothers Eleanor was well versed in how their young minds worked.
“And anyone who sees it will know how tough you are.”

His eyes sought out Theo. “Is it
true?”

The older boy smiled indulgently. “Of
course it is true. But, if it is too fierce of a scar I will have
to get one myself or everyone will think you are tougher than
me.”

The boy burst into giggles as if that
was the silliest thing he had ever heard before promptly producing
his hand to the doctor. Eleanor took the boy’s other hand knowing
that as soon as the needle pricked his skin, he wouldn’t be
giggling any longer. She wished to put an arm around his small
shoulders and give him comfort but was afraid she would only cause
more discomfort if she touched his back.

*

Clayton was still livid
when he left his meeting with Peter and more so after his encounter
with Thomason. The man would never set a foot on his land again. He
got the pay he was due up to the moment Clay stepped into the mill
and not a shilling more, or a reference. An apology to Miss Westin
was on his lips when he stepped into the parlor, but she was gone.
Had she left? She was very strong in her beliefs of how mills
should be run and children treated and witnessed almost the worst
of humanity today.
At my
mill
. She may never speak to him
again.

He stepped outside and Wesley came
running. “Did you want your horse and phaeton, Lord
Bentley?”

“
Not just yet.” Clay looked
around. “Did Miss Westin leave?”

“
She didn’t come out of the
house.”

Relief shot through him and he
returned inside. Voiced carried from the back of the house and he
made his way through the dining room to see what was going on. He
found her in the kitchen proudly displaying a scar on her inner arm
he had never noticed before. He remained silent in the doorway as
Dr. Morway stitched Isaac’s hand while Miss Westin kept the boy
entertained with stories. If only she were virtuous he could
consider marriage. Unfortunately, that was not possible. His
countess must be beyond reproach and a bastard child was not part
of the image he and his family must continue to present to society,
assuming the truth never came out about Madeline. But that was
different. Rose believed her husband a widower when they married.
It wasn’t the same.

*

Clayton glanced over at Eleanor. They
had left following the afternoon meal with the children. It had
been pleasant given the circumstances, but he needed to speak with
her about the ugliness of what they encountered at the mill. “I
apologize for what you witnessed.”

“
You didn’t
know.”

It didn’t matter whether he knew or
not. He was responsible for hiring the man. “Thomason has been
fired and has already vacated.”

“
Are you going to advertise
for a replacement? I am sure someone in town would be happy for the
position.”

“
I don’t need to.” He
grinned down at her. “I offered the job to Peter.

*

“
Peter assured me that
Thomason had only been using the whip for the past month or so. I
know he hadn’t been when I was there two months back. Everything
seemed to have been going well then.”

Eleanor appreciated his honesty and
wondered if he was trying to make excuses, to take the blame off of
himself.

“
Why weren’t you informed
by Mrs. Nevil or someone else?” She asked pointedly. Who knows what
damage that man could have done had Bentley not wanted to impress
her with how he ran his own mills.

“
Mrs. Nevil assured me that
a letter was posted. I never received it,” Bentley explained.
“Peter told me that Thomason had caught him writing a letter to me,
and had it destroyed. Then he would not allow him to contact me.
They had both thought Mrs. Nevil’s missive had gotten
through.”

“
Could Thomason have
removed it from the post?” Perhaps Bentley was without blame. If
two employees thought it right to inform him and trusted in his
reaction, then perhaps she was judging him harshly.

“
That is what we surmised,”
Bentley answered. “Still, I hold myself to blame. The man was
turned out with no references and if anyone asks about him, I will
not be kind in my assessment.”

“
I am afraid that his form
of punishment is preferred by many,” Eleanor stated sadly as they
pulled in front of the manor.

“
Unfortunately, I have to
agree with you.”

After entering the house, Eleanor
begged off for the rest of the day to return home. Not only did she
need to see to the children, but she had much to think on. Lord
Bentley was a contradiction. What she had seen today was the
complete opposite of what she had witnessed in London, especially
his treatment of her. She could feel herself softening toward the
man and she could not afford to think kindly of him. Hadn’t he once
offered her a position as his mistress?

Had he been concerned with her virtue,
he would have waited for a maid to accompany them, though they were
in an open conveyance instead of a closed carriage. Her error had
been not considering the option until it was too late.

Why should she? She didn’t have a maid
and it wasn’t as if she ever accompanied a gentleman anywhere in
the country, other than Drake, but he didn’t count. Everyone knew
they were more like brother and sister than anything
else.

Eleanor needed to be home with her
family, seeing to the chores and putting her mind into the right
perspective. She did not need to be around Bentley, enjoying the
house party where she might forget who she is and where she truly
belonged.

Would he ever get Miss Westin alone
again? From the moment she entered the parlor earlier in the day,
she had stayed with one group of young ladies or another. Whenever
he approached, she moved on to a separate gathering. It was enough
to drive him bloody mad. Was she intentionally trying to avoid him?
They had made headway yesterday so what had transpired in the
interim?

Her group moved through the double
doors out into the gardens. Clay pulled away from the wall and
stopped inside, looking out the window. The ladies settled in
chairs beneath a tree and continued their conversation. Eleanor
nodded her head and walked away. Clay waited to see where she went.
Would she return to the house, or move further into the
gardens.

When she disappeared, lost in the
shrubbery, he waited a few moments. It would not do to bring
attention by going after her immediately. First, he did not wish to
ruin her reputation amongst Acker’s friends and second, he didn’t
wish to become a topic of the many gossipmongers.

Slowly he strolled down the steps and
nodded to the young women and continued on. It was an effort, but
he kept his pace slow and casual, glancing around as if he had no
other purpose than a walk through the gardens. The moment Clay
entered the same path as Miss Westin and no longer in sight of
those seated, he straightened, stopped and looked around. Where had
she gone? A few feet in front of him the path forked. Which way did
she go? Each path would take him along either side of a small inlet
of the lake. To the right was where the boats were docked. To the
left, a small summer house overlooked the water, which he noticed
when they were out on the lake the other day. He continued on the
path that would take him away from the boats.

The summer house was set upon a small
hill beneath a canopy of trees. Afternoon sunlight filtered through
the leaves and dotted the ground and structure. The windows were
opened toward the lake to catch the breeze and light curtains
danced in the wind. It was a pleasant place to recline in the heat
of the day. Clay walked up the two steps and inside the building. A
bed was placed against a far wall. On the opposite, a chaise
lounge, two chairs and a small table were arranged for
conversation. Eleanor reclined on the chaise, her eyes closed, arm
resting against her forehead. Was she ill?