Earl's Well That Ends Well (The Way to a Lord's Heart #5) - Jane Ashford Page 0,85
remain here,” said the señora.
She spoke more harshly than Arthur would have.
“I do not wish to,” said Jeanne. “It is very dull.”
“Jeanne!”
The girl tossed her head. “Eh bien, señora, I am grateful.” She acknowledged Arthur with a curtsy. “I thank you, sir. But I want to dance. It is what I love.”
“And now that you are feeling better, you would like to go back to the theater,” said Arthur.
“Yes, my lord.”
Several others nodded as if they felt the same.
“Poppy’s going to work at the theater too,” said Tom. “Mrs. Scanlon says she sews a treat, and she’ll be glad to have her.”
Jill gave Poppy an astonished look. “Who?”
“The woman who manages the costumes for the plays,” replied Poppy.
“But… What about me?”
Jill had come to rely on Poppy for direction, Arthur saw. Even though they had not known each other long.
“I cannot dance anymore,” said Odile. “Perhaps never again.” She looked frightened.
“So what would you like?” Arthur asked her.
Odile simply stared at him with wide, anxious eyes.
“Perhaps a place to stay,” said Señora Alvarez. “A…refuge when needed.” She said the word with a combination of reverence and melancholy.
“We might hire a house in London that could be used for such a purpose.” In fact, Arthur had already sent out inquiries and unearthed several possibilities in neighborhoods that were safe but not overly fussy about their denizens’ occupations.
“Is this what they call the royal we?” asked the señora, as if he’d mocked her.
Arthur didn’t understand why she was so prickly today. He’d been careful not to seem to dictate.
“And you are to pay for this,” Señora Alvarez added. “Forever?”
“I expect Miss Finch would join in to help. And her friends. We would set up a fund.” He might have paid for it all himself, but that would cause talk. More talk. There was quite enough of that already. He turned to the dancers. “What do you think of this plan?”
“A place to go and stay for free?” asked Maria.
“Yes.”
“For as long as we want?” asked Jill. “Without any rent?”
“There would have to be rules about that,” said the señora.
Arthur nearly objected, until he saw the nods of agreement. “You shall make them,” he said to Señora Alvarez. “With others you choose to consult. Women should oversee everything about this place, I think.”
Odile narrowed her eyes as if trying to see some trick in this suggestion. This was the world they navigated, Arthur thought, continually waiting for an unpredictable hammer blow to fall. He’d had no notion before he met Señora Alvarez.
His visitors all agreed that this seemed a good plan. And over the next few days, the arrangements were made. A suitable house was found and engaged. Arthur went to call on Miss Harriet Finch and ask for her help. Alone, as the señora claimed to be too busy to accompany him. Miss Finch quickly agreed to contribute. “People may wonder at your interest in such a cause,” Arthur warned her.
She shrugged. “The thing I have discovered about being a great heiress is that people will accept a host of eccentricities if they come with money,” she answered. “It is one of the few advantages.”
“Señora Alvarez hopes that you will serve as one of the overseers of the new refuge.” He had been told to ask this.
Miss Finch looked flattered and intrigued. “I will. Perhaps I can do some good in the world. At least until I am harangued into marriage and all the money is handed over to my husband.”
“You can find a husband who would also like to help,” he suggested.
“You are a rare breed, Lord Macklin. I don’t expect to meet another like you.”
He shook his head and told her she was wrong, but she had clearly not been convinced.
And then, quite suddenly it seemed, all was settled. Some of the dancers returned to lodgings near the theater and their work. Odile and others moved to the new house to recover more fully in peace. Señora Alvarez departed with the briefest of goodbyes for her own home. And Arthur’s house suddenly seemed very empty. He might have felt melancholy about that, if he had not had a firm plan in mind for the future.
Fourteen
Teresa sat before the small fire in her small parlor and contemplated her narrow little life. Not long ago, this state had seemed the height of peace and contentment. Now, because she had allowed herself to venture out into another sort of existence, it felt empty. Her tranquility was spoiled. She’d let that happen.