Chapter Thirty-Seven

Please explain to me why I’m in your coach again?” Aaron grumbled from his position facing Graham as the traveling coach rolled north out of London. Graham had taken the mail stage to London, stopped by his house to change clothes and repack his bag, then driven to Aaron’s rooms to convince him to throw a bag together as well.

Now they were on their way to Staffordshire.

“I have a goal to achieve, and bringing you along is the fastest way I can make it happen.” Graham’s plan was still more of an idea than an actual plan, but once he got a better grasp on it, there would be no one better than Aaron to help him finalize it. “We’re going to Grandridge Hall. I’ll have to meet with a few people there first. It’ll possibly take a day or two, but then I need you with me.”

Aaron crossed his arms over his chest and grumbled incoherently. “If you need me, I’ll stay. But you’re going to owe me for this one.”

If everything went the way Graham thought it might, he was going to owe Aaron more than he expected.

Two days later, they were back in the carriage. Graham had met with the estate manager, a local solicitor he trusted, and the local clergyman, and he was now armed with a bit of knowledge and a list.

The carriage rolled to a stop, and Graham opened the door to see a plain, sturdy cottage. He dropped to the ground, a flare of excitement in his middle. This was going to work. And he was going to make all those little faces light up with smiles, and Kit was going to see there was another way to do things, a way to be together that didn’t involve avoiding societal rumors for the rest of their lives.

Everyone was going to be better off if Graham could make this work.

“What are we doing here?” Aaron asked as he climbed out behind Graham.

“Come along,” Graham said cheerfully.

Aaron followed slowly as they walked up to the door. It opened before they got there.

Graham smiled at the woman, whose eyes widened. “Lord Wharton!”

“Yes.” He gestured to Aaron beside him. “Have you met my friend, Mr. Whitworth? He’s illegitimate.”

“What?” Aaron spun to Graham, but Graham ignored him, watching the woman closely as her lip curled for a moment.

No. She wouldn’t do at all.

“We’re just stopping by to see how you like living here,” Graham said, keeping his smile firmly in place.

The woman turned back to him and smiled. “We love it, of course. Living in the shadow of such a great estate is a joy in itself. Would you—”

“Wonderful.” Graham spun on his heel. “Enjoy your day.”

Graham nearly jogged back to the coach, Aaron close on his heels. Graham beat on the ceiling for the driver to move on before he and Aaron were truly settled in the seats.

Aaron glared at Graham and talked through gritted teeth. “What. Was. That?”

With eyebrows raised, Graham tried to look innocent. Even as serious as his current mission was, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to tease his friend. “What was what? I introduced you to someone who already knew me. It’s proper etiquette.”

Twenty minutes later, the coach stopped at another house. This one was a bit larger, with ivy crawling toward the windows and chickens scratching in the yard. “Now this looks promising,” Graham said as he climbed out. “Come along, Aaron.”

Hesitantly, Aaron climbed out of the carriage.

Again the door was opened before they could get there, this time by a girl of about eight. At least that was Graham’s best guess. She looked about the same height as Blake. Then again, did boys and girls grow at the same rate?

“Can I help you?” the girl asked.

“Is your mother or father home?” Graham asked.

A man came around the side of the house as a woman came from the back, cradling a baby.

“Lord Wharton?” the man asked.

“Yes.” Graham smiled. “You are Mr. Pierce, correct?”

The man nodded, looking a bit nervous.

“Allow me to introduce my illegitimate friend, Mr. Whitworth.”

Graham nearly chuckled as Aaron started mumbling under his breath.

The man and woman looked at Graham as if he’d lost his mind, but they made no reaction otherwise.

“Would you like to come in?” The woman and girl stepped aside. “I’ve made fresh biscuits, but they’re ginger. I’ve heard you don’t care for those, Lord Wharton. Do you like ginger, Mr. Whitworth?”

“Actually, they’re our favorite,” Aaron said.

Graham nearly chuckled. They weren’t. Aaron hated ginger as much as Graham did, but he was determined to make life difficult for Graham. Not that he blamed him. He probably should have told his friend what they were doing today, but he’d been too focused on moving forward.

They entered the house and sat down to tea, asking the Pierces about their life and their children. Graham was particularly interested in the children, and he tried to ask questions without seeming too obvious.

As he left, though, his heart was happy. This plan was going to work.

Two houses and one hour later, he was a bit more discouraged. The reactions had been much like the first house, with all of them immediately showing a bit of distaste over Aaron’s presence.

As Graham threw himself into the coach once more he looked up to see Aaron glaring at him. Frankly, Graham was surprised the man was still getting in and out of the coach.

“No more.” Aaron crossed his arms over his chest. “I know I told you my parentage was always there, but it’s usually not something I knock on people’s doors to announce.”

Graham nodded. “Let’s get something to eat.” He ran his tongue over his teeth. “My mouth still tastes like ginger.”

Once they were in a tavern, plates of food in front of them, Graham looked up at Aaron. “I suppose I should tell you what I’m doing.”

“That would be nice,” Aaron said blandly.

Graham took a deep breath. He trusted Aaron completely or he wouldn’t be about to tell him about Haven Manor, about Kit and Daphne, about the children. Still, it felt like a betrayal since he hadn’t asked Kit about it first. He threw all of it out there in a rush. “I’m in love with a woman who has spent the last twelve years caring for illegitimate children.”

Aaron stopped eating and slowly put his bread down. “This woman. She’s the one who told you Priscilla’s location?”

Graham nodded and explained how the process had worked, at least until recently. He left out the blackmail and the connection to The Governess. They weren’t particularly relevant now, and Aaron would eventually put all of those pieces together anyway.

Once he’d finished explaining, Graham gave Aaron time to think, making himself eat food he didn’t really want anymore.

“That doesn’t explain what we’re doing,” Aaron finally said.

“I thought about what you said. About how what you wanted most was a family, and the more time I spent with the children, the more I wanted them to have it, too. All of them have aristocratic blood, but that’s not going to get them far.”

“Of that, I am aware.”

Graham fiddled with his fork. “I want more for those children than a life of drudgery and survival. I thought it might be possible for the initial idea, living with a family, to become a more permanent thing. If someone were to take them in like they were their own children, raise them. With the really young ones, they could grow up with no one even remembering they weren’t originally part of the family. I talked to a solicitor who said it wouldn’t cause much of a ripple, legally speaking, as long as I looked to non-titled families.”

The more Graham thought about the idea, the more excited he became, but he made himself sit quietly and let Aaron soak in what he’d just heard.

“Do you think people would do that?” Aaron asked quietly.

“Not many, but it doesn’t have to be many. Kit has twelve children including Prissy’s baby.” He didn’t count Benedict. Daphne would never part with her son even if she couldn’t claim him as her own. “That’s twelve families. I don’t need a hundred. Though if I could find a hundred, we could help more women.”

“And if you get the children out of the way,” Aaron said slowly, “Kit would be free to marry you?”

“Yes.” Then Graham understood what Aaron was implying. “No! I hope she will, but if she doesn’t . . .” Graham sighed and shoved his plate away. “I feel like I spend half the year traveling to house parties all over the country. It would be simple enough to visit families in those areas, find more that are willing to take in a child. Kit could keep doing what she’s doing, but instead of raising the children herself, they’d be getting a family. She’d only be limited by the number of families we can find instead of how many she’s able to raise herself. So I suppose freeing Kit so I can convince her to marry me is part of it, but it’s certainly not all of it. Possibly even not what’s most important.”

That was hard for him to admit. He knew Kit was who he wanted to be with, knew he wanted these children to be his purpose, knew they made him a better man. With or without Kit, those children and others like them had become important. If that joined up with Kit’s passion to save the mothers, well, it seemed like a rather unstoppable combination.

Aaron was quiet for a very long time, and Graham began to wonder if his idea was ludicrous. Saying it out loud had made him feel a bit silly.

“You want her to keep doing this? Even if you’re married?”

Graham nodded and pushed his food around. “It’s important. More important than I ever realized.”

“And the reason I have to be here?”

Graham pressed his mouth into a thin line. “I don’t want anyone to ever make a child feel bad for being born on the wrong side of the blanket. It wasn’t your fault and it’s not their fault, and the last thing I want is to put them in a home where they’re constantly made to feel like they’re less.”

“So you want to see people’s reaction to me, to finding out I’m illegitimate,” Aaron said.

Graham nodded.

Both men fell silent, and Graham couldn’t bring himself to look up.

The barmaid stopped by the table to see if they needed more ale or food. Graham shook his head but looked up when he felt Aaron shifting toward the woman.

Aaron was smiling for the first time all day. “I’m Mr. Whitworth,” he said, “and I’m illegitimate.”

The barmaid stepped back like Aaron had a disease and rushed off.

Graham’s eyes were wide as Aaron turned back to him and shrugged. “I don’t think she’s a good candidate.”

Kit missed Graham. She missed the way he made her think and the way he made her smile.

She also missed his ability to haul heavy furniture.

“One, two, three!” With a grunt, she and Jess pushed the last heavy bed into place.

That did it. The house had been set back to the way it was when Daphne and Kit had moved in all those years ago.

There was still work to do, though, ledgers and papers to clean out of the library, chandeliers and windows to clean, small decorations and artwork to place around the house. How much of this would the new owner even keep? In his mind it had been sitting here unused for nearly twenty years, with a caretaker in place to make sure it didn’t fall apart. What sort of condition would he expect the house to be in?

Kit looked around. The views from the window were the same, the walls were the same, even some of the artwork gracing the walls was the same, but it didn’t feel like home to her anymore. She felt like she had to be careful everywhere she went.

“Is Blake staying with Nash and Margaretta tonight?” Jess asked as they walked down the stairs. Kit nodded. The conversations with Lord Eversly were going well. Much better than Kit had ever expected. “I don’t know if Blake feels comfortable leaving with his father, but I don’t know how much longer he’ll be able to maintain this. As nice as The Castle Inn is, Lord Eversly isn’t going to want to live there for much longer.”

Jess nodded. “It’s a good sign that he’s stayed this long. He could simply take the boy and leave and we couldn’t do anything about it.”

Kit hated that Jess was right. She’d been looking, hoping for some sign that Lord Eversly was not a good man, that something would happen to make this situation horrible. But each time Blake returned to Haven Manor he was happier, more hopeful. It wasn’t hard to see what that was doing to the rest of the children. As difficult as it would be, it was time for Blake to go make a new life, a better life than Kit could have ever provided.

As they walked toward the caretaker’s cottage, tension knotted across Kit’s shoulders. After a lot of thought, they’d decided to try moving everyone to the smaller house. The narrow servants’ beds from the house were tucked into every conceivable place in the cottage, edge to edge and nearly wall to wall in the three upstairs bedchambers, tucked in the corners of what was supposed to be the dressing room and the downstairs parlor. Jess was sleeping on a pallet in the kitchen.

The children were bearing up under the misery, but it couldn’t last. Kit wished she’d dared stay in the big house longer, but she couldn’t risk what the new owner would do if he found them there, if the house wasn’t the way he expected it to be. And there would be no reason for him to send advance warning.

Margaretta was contacting The Committee to see if funds could be gathered to purchase the farm. Even if the women spent all of their money on the land, they’d be living a step above squalor until they could figure out how to buy the needed furniture and make some necessary repairs.

Until they had that figured out, they were living in a home that would have been more than adequate for a normal-sized family.

It was a bit small for a family of fifteen.

It was just one more thing to make Kit sad, and that was not what she needed right now.

She opened one of the trunks they’d layered clothes in and shifted aside a few garments to pull out her night rail. A splash of green underneath it made her eyes prick with tears. Daphne’s evening gown—well, sort of hers now—peeked up at her. The one that had first drawn Graham’s notice. He’d thought her to be a woman she wasn’t.

But she wanted to be. She wanted to be that confident, honorable woman, and that was why she’d sent him away. To have kept him would have been selfish. She would have slowly ruined him. Their relationship would never have survived waiting for the axe to fall on their heads, waiting for someone to figure out her secret life.

She didn’t know how Daphne, Jess, the children, and she would continue from here, but she’d find a way. She trusted God to find a way. Already He was opening doors she would’ve never thought to consider, such as the option of becoming a sponsored charity. They were still discussing that one, though. Would Haven Manor work if more people knew about it? Or would it become like the foundling hospital where the most desperate women left their babies? Overworked and overcrowded.

Kit sighed as noise emanated from the small caretaker’s cottage. Of course, without a manor house, Haven Manor was rather overcrowded as it was.