Robert stared at Jeanne’s retreating figure, unsure where he’d gone wrong. He’d hoped they would be able to work together to secure the house for the invasion of the urchins. Interacting with them at the church was one thing; allowing them inside the walls of his life was quite another. They could smash things, deface them, take everything that he held dear… not to mention the duke and duchess’ lovely possessions.
Jeanne was an organized sort, and he’d thought she would understand the need for precautions. But she’d seemed perturbed by his suggestion. Almost… insulted. Why? Perhaps he needed to rethink his decision to pursue her as a potential mate. The perfect wife needed to be calm, level-headed, and certainly not prone to displays of emotion. In a daze, he focused on getting his master ready for today’s session at Parliament. Perhaps he should forget about marriage, especially to the fiery Miss Brown.
Except that she was so lovely. And she stirred something in him he didn’t quite understand. Shaking off his thoughts, he made his way toward the duke’s rooms to see that his master was made ready for today’s session at Parliament.
“Townley.”
Robert blinked and quickly pushed thoughts of the intriguing Miss Brown aside. His employer, the Duke of Bartlett, stood in the doorway of his study.
“Yes, Your Grace?”
“Is something wrong? You look… troubled.”
“Oh, not at all, Your Grace. I… couldn’t remember where I’d put… my gloves. No matter, I’ll find another pair. Is there something I can do for you?” He straightened and faced the duke, careful to enunciate each word. His master had lost most of his hearing in a hunting accident but had learned to read lips.
“Er, yes. My wife shared with me her plan to have the children’s Christmas party here, and I support the idea completely. If you would, please deliver our invitations when you instruct the children tonight.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“The duchess misses those little ones so. I have to admit, I do, too.” He frowned. “There was one little boy who didn’t attend often, but when he did, he was quite clever. Andrew, I think his name was. Has he been there?”
“Yes, Andrew was in attendance last night.”
“Good. He comes from a — a rather rough home situation, I gather. Often came with bruises.”
“I noticed that. I assumed he was a clumsy child.”
“I’m afraid not. From what I hear, his father is rather — forceful with his discipline.”
“That’s not a bad thing, if the lad deserved it.”
“Perhaps not. But he’s such a well-behaved fellow during instruction, I often wonder… Anyway, I’ve delivered my reminder, so I’ve done my duty.”
“Yes, Your Grace. You are due at Parliament in one hour. Shall I summon a hackney for you?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes. I’d forgotten about that. I would so much rather stay here. The doctor says my daughter should arrive any day now.”
“It could be a son.”
“Yes, of course. But I just have a feeling it’s a girl. Won’t it be lovely, having a tiny version of the duchess running around?”
“Undoubtedly so. Will there be anything else?”
“Er, no. I’ll be in my study until my transport arrives.”
“Very good, Your Grace.”
~~~~
Robert found one of the footmen and sent him out to rent a carriage for the duke. Then he went upstairs to put his master’s dressing room in order. He found comfort in the routine of his duties. Cleaning the duke’s brushes, putting away his bedclothes, assuring the maids had cleaned the room properly; those were things he could control. When he’d appointed himself the duke’s unofficial bodyguard, following and protecting him from dangers, even facing ruffians in the street — that hadn’t fazed Robert.
But a dozen street urchins in the house scared him witless. Why was it he could face a dangerous adult, but had trouble dealing with children?
Because those children have nothing to lose. They’re fighting for their lives, because they need what I have more than I do.
The children in the church school had never given him any reason to fear them. They’d behaved themselves, other than the way they gobbled their treats. They sat quietly in their seats, listened to instruction, and did as they were told. Even the parents who stayed to listen — and presumably learned along with their children — had treated him with nothing but respect. So why did he need a glass or two of port before going to the lessons just to fortify himself?
He knew the answer, but refused to dwell on it. What had happened was in the past, and it did no good to dwell on it.
“Mr. Townley?”
I seem to be caught woolgathering at every turn. I’d better stop if I’m to keep my position.
The chambermaid waited at the doorway. Sarah, he thought her name was. “May I begin cleaning the room?” she asked.
“Oh. Yes, of course.” He moved aside. “Er, you’ve worked for the duke for quite some time, haven’t you?”
“Yes, sir. Almost five years, whenever the duke is in town.” The young girl spoke with pride then gasped as a thought occurred to her. “Oh, Mr. Townley, I’m not being let go, am I?”
“Let — oh no, no. What I mean to say—”
“I’ll work twice as long, twice as hard. Please don’t send me away. I need this job. My mother is getting frail, and she can’t work. And my little brothers and sisters—”
He put out a hand. “Stop. Your job is not in question here. I’m concerned because the duke and duchess have invited some — guests, and I’m not sure we can trust them not to leave with some valuable items.”
“Why would His Grace invite thieves to come here?”
“They’re not thieves. Well, at least I hope not. But I don’t know what they might do.”
“Who are they?”
“The children at the church school.”
“Oh, the children from Cheapside? They’re going to have their Christmas party here? That’s wonderful! My little sister and brother will be thrilled to know the party won’t be cancelled. They’d assumed since the duchess wouldn’t be able to come—” She broke off and put her hands on her hips. “Are you saying that my siblings and their friends are thieves?”
“Well, perhaps not thieves, but they won’t know how to behave in polite company. I’m afraid if they get the run of the place we’ll have broken china and ruined furniture and who knows what else.”
Sarah chewed on her lip. “Well, Mr. Townley, if they don’t know how to behave, pr’aps you ought to teach them.”
“Teach them how to behave?”
“Show ’em what’s expected. I didn’t know anything about how to act when I first came here. But Miss Brown, she taught me. She showed me how to curtsey right when the duke and duchess walk by and how to answer them when they speak to me. And down in the servant’s dining room, she showed me how to use a fork and knife. That’s somethin’ my parents never knew, so they didn’t teach me. It’s not that they were bad parents. It’s just something they didn’t ever need to know. So if you let the children know what to expect and how they should act when it happens, you won’t be disappointed in how they behave.”
Suddenly Sarah’s eyes opened wide and she clamped her mouth shut and set about straightening the bed linens.
Robert could have taken the girl to task for speaking to an upper servant in such a forward manner, but her words resonated with common sense. And Robert was nothing if not sensible.
If the children know what to expect and have learned how to act, you won’t be disappointed in how they behave.
Perhaps tonight’s school session should be about proper deportment.
Since Phillip was at Parliament, Robert had the rest of the afternoon to himself. He packed a light bag and left the house through the servants’ door and made his way to Bond Street. He needed to think, and exercise always helped him clear his head. A round or two in Gentleman John Jackson’s Saloon would be the perfect way to accomplish that.
The smell of sweat and tobacco assaulted him as he made his way up the stairs to the training floor. At the top of the stairs he paused to drink in the welcoming atmosphere. It had been far too long since his last visit.
“Robert. Where’ve ye been, old boy? Bet you’re gettin’ soft.” Ralph Wilcox, one of the saloon’s trainers, slapped Robert on the shoulder. “Get yourself ready, and I’ll go a round with ye.”
Robert grinned at his old friend. Ralph had been his trainer since the first day his father had taken him to Jackson’s. Geoffrey Townley loved his son, but he hadn’t been the nurturing sort. His wife’s death had left him with a young boy and no idea how to raise him. All he knew was his duty to the Ninth Duke of Bartlett. Fortunately, the duchess had taken a shine to Robert and encouraged him to stay in the mansion as a companion for her son Phillip, who was about the same age. An extra cot was set up in the valet’s room, and Phillip was raised with the duke’s children. Still, the elder Townley had been careful to see his son understood the difference in their stations. “No matter what young Phillip says or does, he is still your better,” he’d told his son. “He’ll be the one with all the privileges, and it is your job to see that he gets them.”
One afternoon, Phillip and Robert had gone exploring through London. They’d taken a wrong turn and ended up in an unsavory section of the city. Robert would never forget his fear when a band of ruffians had accosted them, taking all their money and leaving them battered and bruised. Geoffrey had taken one look at his son, marched him over to Gentleman Jackson’s, and arranged for boxing lessons. Ralph had been there that day, and over the years had become more of a mentor, encouraging him, praising him when he succeeded, and offering words of guidance, not just in boxing, but in life. When Phillip had gone off to Eton, Robert had spent most of his off-hours there, learning and getting stronger.
Robert made quick work of shedding his shirt and flexed his arm and leg muscles. He bounced on the balls of his feet to warm up.
“Yer getting’ soft, old man,” Ralph teased.
“Old? I’ll show you who’s old.” Robert laughed.