The Nightingale Legacy (Legacy 2)

Caroline stared after Mrs. Trebaw as she walked quickly away, shouting at Dumpling, the cook’s scullery, “Off you go now, Dumpling! No, don’t spill that milk. Careful, girl! Arrgh, you deserve a clout for that!” She turned and said to Caroline, “Nice is nice, but I’ll wager that even Bess Treath has clouted her maids in the ear now and again. Dumpling! You clumsy girl!”

Caroline went to the third floor, to the old nanny’s large room where she’d ensconced the seamstress from Trevellas. Mrs. Wiggins would remain here for two weeks, sewing gowns for all of them. She was jolly and big-bosomed and had no taste at all. Thankfully, Miss Mary Patricia was blessed with exquisite taste, even managing quite skillfully to temper the overly exuberant wishes of Evelyn, and it was she who directed Mrs. Wiggins in the choice of materials for the three of them and the styles. Miss Mary Patricia also agreed to oversee the making of several gowns for Caroline.

She left Miss Mary Patricia and Evelyn arguing about a particularly vile shade of puce that Evelyn thought would be just beautiful on Miss Caroline. Caroline shook her head and left quickly. She went back downstairs and came face-to-face with Bennett Penrose.

“Good day, cousin,” she said, and kept walking toward the small back room that she’d taken over as her workroom.

“I want to speak to you, Caroline.”

She said over her shoulder, “Good. I want to speak to you as well. Come along, Bennett.”

She knew he didn’t like her sitting behind the desk, the sunlight behind her and thus in his eyes, but she didn’t care.

“Our three ladies are here now, Bennett,” she said without preamble. “You will be polite to all of them. You will be careful not to frighten them, particularly Alice, who is very young and very frightened of anyone who is male.”

“Then why’d she toss up her skirts if she was frightened of men?”

“Bennett,” she said, willing herself to patience, “Alice is fourteen years old. She was raped by three young men who were probably drunk. She is a child and now she is pregnant. You will be very, very careful around her.”

Bennett looked contemptuous and shrugged. She wanted to smack him, but she said only, “Scrilady Hall is their refuge and now their home. They are safe here, from nastiness, from threat. Do you understand me?”

He only shrugged again.

“Bennett, you can move out if you wish.”

“Where would I go? Would you give me money to leave, Caroline? You could, you know. I wouldn’t relinquish my share of anything here, but if you gave me an income from all the money you inherited, then I would gladly be on my way.”

It was a thought, a very good one, actually, but she knew her aunt had believed Bennett to be redeemable. More fool her aunt in this case, but Caroline supposed she had to give it a try. “No. Why don’t you get work? You’re not particularly stupid, just lazy.”

“I’m a gentleman.”

“Ah, that means, then, that you’ll skulk and sulk about and drink yourself to death at Mrs. Freely’s inn in Goonbell? I doubt North would consider that a proper gentleman’s pursuits.”

“He’s got money. I don’t have any.”

“He didn’t have any money until he came into the title. He was in the army, from the age of sixteen, doing something useful, earning his own keep.”

“Napoleon’s gone. There’s no more reason to go into the army. Besides, I would have to have a commission. Would you give me the seven or eight hundred pounds to buy me one?”

She sighed. “What do you want to do, Bennett?”

He rose and walked to the long windows that gav

e onto a lovely enclosed garden. He said finally, “I want to marry an heiress.”

Well, that was something. “How does one go about marrying an heiress?”

“There aren’t any in this godforsaken area, that’s for sure. No, I must go to London to find a rich cit’s daughter. I’m of excellent breeding even though I don’t have a title. Yes, all I need is capital and I will be married to an heiress within six months.”

“So you want me to loan you the money? An investment in the hunt?”

“Yes,” he said as he turned back to face her. “I venture to say that five thousand pounds would get the job done. I would give you, say, ten percent in return after a period of eight months. Perhaps then you would buy me out of my half of all this. God knows the last thing I want to do is take care of pregnant sluts. Is that acceptable to you?”

Caroline didn’t know what to say, and that was odd because usually words tumbled merrily off her tongue. She could only stare at Bennett and wonder what kind of a man he was. She said finally, “I will think about this, Bennett. In the meanwhile, why don’t you make yourself useful here.”

“Doing what? Meeting with those damned boring farmers? Making repairs on their cottages? Should I force myself to listen to them talk of their meager crops that are always rotting in the fields from too much rain? Do you want me to sit down with Mr. Dumbarton and commiserate on having you here as mistress and not a man? You want me to enter stupid numbers in a ledger? Go spend my time in the tin mines, licking Peetree’s boots, like you’ve got Owen doing? Oh yes, I saw him over at Wheal Kitty walking about with that damned manager, acting like a stupid schoolboy, all ears, looking ready to pant.”

“If you married an heiress, Bennett, you would be expected to do something useful. If there’s an estate, it would be your responsibility to see that it’s well run. If your wife’s family is in banking, for example, you would be expected to learn that job.”