She wiped her chubby, little girl cheeks. “Why?”
Nick sat back on his heels. “Because you deserve more.” With that he squeezed her hand and stood to walk to the window. He raised it up and looked out at the dirty alley below. At least it was only one floor above the ground.
He sat on the edge of the windowsill and studied them. “Listen for me. I will be back in about an hour. I’ll throw some pebbles at the window. When I do, you will climb out and drop into my arms.”
They huddled together on the bed, holding hands. The older one studied him with wide eyes and nodded.
He swung his legs out and dropped to the ground, grunting as he landed. He was getting too old for this stuff.
Well, he didn’t get the information he wanted from Maggie, but most likely once these girls learned he could be trusted, they might open up and be able to help him. For now, he needed to get them as far away from this despicable situation as possible.
Who knew he would end up a rescuer of women? Given his own childhood, it did seem to fit.
Pamela walked into the kitchen at Nick’s townhouse. The cook, Mrs. Davis, was busy preparing dinner. She stopped and wiped her hands on an apron wrapped around her middle. “Can I help you with something, my lady?”
“I d-d-don’t mean to dis-disturb you, since I know y-y-you are busy. I hoped to m-m-make myself a cup of t-tea. I feel a bit fuzzy fr-from the m-medicine I’ve been t-taking.”
Mrs. Davis approached her. “My dear, you are not disturbing me. Not at all. Sit down and I will get your tea.”
As much as Pamela wanted to argue the point since, after all, she’d been doing for herself for the three years she’d lived in Bath, it was better to allow Mrs. Davis to make her tea since with the woolly way her brain was currently working, she would probably burn down the kitchen. Not a good way to thank Nick for taking her in.
“Th-thank you. If it’s n-not too much tr-trouble.”
“No trouble at all, my lady. You can return to the drawing room and I will send it in for you.”
“N-no, please. I don’t want to c-c-cause trouble, and actually I w-w-would prefer to st-stay here if you don’t m-mind. I spent a good p-part of my girlhood in our k-k-kitchen in London and at our c-country estate. Our c-c-cook even taught me how to b-bake, much to my m-m-mother’s chagrin.”
Goodness, she had never spoken so much to a stranger before. Even though her words were garbled, Mrs. Davis didn’t seem to be confused. Or annoyed.
“Were you pleased with the items Mrs. Fletcher brought back from her shopping spree?” Mrs. Davis busied herself with heating the tea kettle and setting out a cup, saucer and spoon, along with a small pitcher of milk and a bowl of sugar. She moved so quickly and efficiently, she made Pamela’s head spin. Although, that could very well have been the medicine. She must stop that laudanum.
“Yes. She br-brought back s-some lovely things. I am very gr-grateful to Mr. Smith for helping m-me.”
Mrs. Davis poured the water into the tea kettle and set it down in front of Pamela at the small workbench where she sat. “I think Mr. Smith is a wonderful man, but I am quite sure he has more than a passing interest in helping you.” She gave Pamela a knowing smile and turned back to her work.
Pamela felt the heat from her middle make its way up to her face. She truly didn’t know what was more embarrassing, her stutter or the way she blushed all the time. Or the fact that it appeared members of his staff seemed to notice how Nick felt about her.
She’d spent most of the day sleeping in the comfortable bed Nick had provided her with. When she wasn’t sleeping, she spent time going over what Mrs. Fletcher had brought back from the stores and was quite happy with her selections. She now had proper grooming articles and a few days’ worth of clothing.
As much as she hated to admit it, she missed Nick. She tried to read from a book she’d taken from his surprisingly well-stocked library, but with her wrist still a bit tender, it was too taxing to hold the book. Maybe when Nick returned, he would read to her.
Then she drew in a breath. Was he even able to read? The little she knew of his background was enough to make her wonder. He had spent most of his childhood on the streets of London, but according to what she’d been told he made enough money to raise himself up.
Given how well he dressed, and how loquacious he was, he must have hired tutors. She doubted if he would have gone through all of that and not made sure he could read.
All these things were going through her mind as she drank her tea and watched Mrs. Davis put the dinner together. The beef roast rubbed with rosemary, new potatoes and carrots smelled wonderful and her stomach embarrassingly growled.
She turned at the sound of the front door opening and voices coming from the entrance hall. Her heart sped up, knowing Nick had returned. Why she felt excited at that didn’t surprise her in the least.
She turned on the bench where she sat as Nick and two young girls, both with heavily made up faces, bundled in too-big-for-them coats, arrived in the kitchen. Mrs. Davis eyebrows rose, and Pamela stared at them.
“Who have we here?” Mrs. Fletcher must have heard the commotion and joined them in the kitchen.
Nick place his hands on each girl’s shoulder. “We have Ruth and Susan.” He nodded at each girl, who both studied the floor in front of them. “They were working at a very seedy pub in Bristol. That is all I need to say for now. What they need is hot baths, some proper clothes and a warm meal.”
The motherly Mrs. Fletcher tsked and hurried over to the girls. “Oh, my dears, come with me. We will get you all taken care of.” She glanced back at Nick as she ushered the girls out, a puzzled expression on her face.
“Have one of the maids take care of the girls and come back down. I will explain everything.” He then turned his attention to Pamela and his face lit up, causing the heat to once again rise to her cheeks.