In the past, Lydia would have laughed outright at such a warning. But on the heels of Arthur’s scorching kiss… “I won’t.”
She walked Clarissa downstairs to the door and then watched her climb into the elegant carriage waiting for her.
What would it be like to… sit in the dark with one’s husband in a private box at the opera? And to have children of her own?
Feeling lonelier than she had before Clarissa’s visit, Lydia closed the door behind her and, after peeking inside the drawing room, wandered the corridors until she located Mr. Hill. “Have you seen my aunt this afternoon?”
“She went out with Lord Beasley one hour ago. She said she wasn’t certain of when she intended to return.” Mr. Hill seemed almost apologetic. Lydia must look as pathetic as she felt.
“Thank you, Mr. Hill.”
This wasn’t the first time her aunt had gone out with Lord Beasley, an elderly baron who’d courted Aunt Emma about a hundred or so years ago. And if Lydia wasn’t mistaken, the gentleman was as smitten now as he must have been before.
Lydia needed to stop feeling sorry for herself and do something productive. Just as she went to return to her chamber, however, pounding sounded on the door, fists rather than the knocker. Curious as to who it could be, Lydia paused on the steps and waited for Mr. Hill to open it. When he did so, a gush of wind swept into the foyer, along with Jeremy, who looked fit to be tied.
“Is he here?”
“Who?”
“Our innocent little orphan,” Jeremy growled.
Oh, Ollie! Lydia’s heart sunk at the implication of Jeremy showing up here looking for him.
“You lost him already?”
“I didn’t lose him. Mrs. Crump fed him, found him proper clothing and shoes, and then insisted he bathe, which, by the way, had the entire household suffering his caterwauling for nearly half an hour. But when she sent him to collect coal from the cellar, he disappeared instead.”
“Oh, no.”
“I thought he might have come here. He paid very close attention to our directions after we delivered you yesterday.” Jeremy rubbed the back of his neck. And in that single motion, Lydia saw it. He was concerned that Ollie had returned to the docks and put himself in danger.
Worry swept through her at the thought.
“We need to find him,” she said. “We need to go back to the warehouse now.” She glanced down at her gown, which would stand out like a sore thumb amongst the fishmongers, beggars, and seaman ever-present along Wapping Street.
Jeremy shook his head. “It’s getting late. Perhaps Baxter—”
“Pardon me, My Lord, My Lady.” Lydia turned around to see Mrs. Duckworth, the housekeeper, hovering at the door that led to the kitchens. “This little one insists that he knows you.”
Tucked behind the housekeeper’s skirts, wearing perfectly fitted short pants, a shining pair of boots, and a pristine white shirt beneath a fitted jacket, hid a small boy who looked suspiciously familiar.
“Ollie!” Lydia gasped. Absent his usual dirt and grime, her little orphan was barely recognizable. Lydia rushed forward and took both his hands in hers and then lifted them out to his sides in admiration. “Just look at you!”
“Ahem.” Jeremy stepped forward with a scowl, and Ollie’s relieved smile fell.
“Tell me, Oliver, did or did not Mrs. Crump ask you to bring up some coal.” Jeremy pointedly swept his gaze around the gilded foyer. “You are a long way from my coal cellar. Did you get lost?”
Lydia bit her lip and watched silently. This was a matter to be settled between the two of them.
Ollie squirmed. “I don’t like no baths. That old woman dumped hot water over my head—tried to drown me.” And then he threw his arms around Lydia’s legs. “Don’t make me go back!”
Lydia pinched her mouth into a straight line and stared at Jeremy expectantly, all but biting her tongue so as not to interfere.
Hands behind his back, Jeremy stood firm, looking quite imposing but also… like that of a disappointed parent.
“You promised me you would assist in the kitchen, and in exchange, what did I promise you in return?
“Hot food. And sweet biscuits, and a bed that ain’t outside,” Ollie admitted grudgingly.
“And what did you have when we arrived at Charles Street?”
“Stew. With meat. And a piece of pie.”
“And where did Mrs. Crump show you to afterward?”
“A bed with three blankets!”
Jeremy allowed silence to fall between them as Ollie considered his circumstances.
“You would give all that up because of a bath?” Lydia could not help herself. The child looked so determined... but also a little bit lost. “I can’t have you visit me for tea if you don’t bathe. All proper gentlemen know it’s important to smell properly clean when they visit a lady.”
At this, she thought she saw Jeremy roll his eyes heavenward.
“But I ain’t no proper gentleman,” Ollie said.
“Not yet, but with help from Lord Tempest, perhaps someday you will be one. You could learn to speak and read and write…”
Jeremy appeared as skeptical as Ollie.
But then Ollie loosened his hold on her legs, looking rather torn.
“Go outside and wait for me in the carriage.” Jeremy met Ollie’s gaze meaningfully. “If you aren’t inside of it when I come out, I’ll know you’ve made your choice. You won’t be given the same opportunity again.”
Ollie fidgeted with a button on the new jacket he was wearing.
“Choose wisely, Ollie,” Lydia said.
He glanced up at her, melting her heart with those violet eyes. “You mean it? You really think I could be a gentleman?”
“I do indeed. But you must learn to follow rules first. You must take your baths and do as Mrs. Crump tells you. You are worthy, Ollie, but you cannot run away simply because you’re a little uncomfortable. Do you understand?”
Ollie nodded.
“In the carriage, Ollie. At once.”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, m’lord.” He turned to head back toward the kitchen before being halted by Mr. Hill’s voice. “Parden me, Mr. Ollie. The carriage is this way.”
Ollie turned around in both terror and awe as Mr. Hill reached out his hand and escorted the diminutive little man out the front door.
Likely, it was the first time Ollie had used a front door to enter any sort of home, let alone one of the grandest mansions in all of Mayfair.
Chapter 6
“Really, Lydia? A gentleman?” The sarcasm in Jeremy’s voice echoed off the ornate walls of the suddenly empty foyer. “I knew you were naïve, but…”
His gaze trailed down her person, and as he did so, the look in his eyes changed from one of derision to something else. They were alone again, and he was as aware of it as she was.
“It is possible.” She forced herself to remember what they were discussing. “As a ward of yours.”
She expected him to groan or adamantly deny anything of the sort.
“He’s to work for me, Lydia.” He glanced over his shoulder to where Ollie had disappeared with Mr. Hill. “And we’re not off to a very auspicious start.”