Tenacious Trents 01 - A Misguided Lord Page 5

  Clay wouldn’t relinquish her arm. Miss Westin was disturbed. Was her brother so gravely ill? “I insist.”

  She searched his eyes then sighed. “Very well.”

  Had he been so rude to her in the past she did not wish to spend any time with him? He knew the answer in his own mind before he finished the question.

  Yes. He had been unfair to her, a matter he wished to right. Clay assisted her into the seat and tossed a few coins to the lad who held his horses before settling in beside her. He pulled the phaeton into traffic toward Mayfair.

  “No,” Miss Westin objected. “It is the other direction.”

  “Pardon?”

  “My siblings, they do not live with my grandparents.” She glanced around. “Turn right at the next corner.”

  Clayton did as she requested. “Why, if I may be so bold to ask?”

  Her jaw hardened for a moment and he wondered if she were going to answer. “Because they are no blood relation to them,” she bit out.

  “He does not help support them?”

  A bitter laugh came out. “Why should he? No, they are my responsibility and nobody else’s.” Tears sprang to her eyes and she quickly looked away. “I am sorry. It has been a trying day.”

  “Of course.”

  She directed him to stop before a modest two-story home in the heart of Cheapside, and hopped out of the Phaeton before he could come around and assist her. That was no action any lady should take and he was rewarded with a glimpse of nicely turned ankles and a shapely calf. Clay hurried around and met her at the stoop. “Thank you for giving me a lift.”

  “Is there anything else I can do? Summon a doctor perhaps.” Her vulnerability pulled at him. She was too young to have the responsibility of a family without a gentleman to see to their needs. For years he had not liked Stanhope and his miserly ways. All the man cared about was his position in society and that his peers were not over-burdened. He gave little thought and no care to anyone he considered beneath him. Apparently, Miss Westin’s siblings fell into that category.

  A grateful smile formed on her lips. “A doctor has already seen him, but I thank you for the offer.”

  “I’ll come in and wait. You shouldn’t return to Mayfair this late on your own.”

  “That is very kind of you, Lord Bentley, but it is not wise. Benjamin has the measles and I would hate for you to become ill.”

  Clay tried to remember if he ever had that illness but could not recall. Miss Westin was right. It was best that he wait out here.

  “Thank you again for the assistance.” Turning away from him she entered the humble abode and closed the door.

  He should return home but couldn’t bring himself to leave. The evening was progressing and if Miss Westin was determined to walk home tonight, it would be dark before she was half-way there. London was much too dangerous for an unaccompanied lady to walk about. His meeting with John would just have to wait because he wasn’t leaving here without Miss Westin.

  Chapter 5

  Eleanor did her best to make Ben comfortable. He was tucked into bed and fell asleep shortly after she had given him the Dover’s Powder.

  “You should go,” Leigh insisted.

  “I can’t leave him. What if something were to happen?”

  “I will send word, I promise,” Mrs. Hartley insisted. “If you stay, you risk angering your grandfather, and you won’t find a husband sitting here.”

  Eleanor glanced back down at Benjamin. He was resting peacefully. “It doesn’t seem right.”

  “It isn’t right but you have little choice. His lordship has given you none,” Mrs. Hartley insisted angrily.

  In that she was correct. Eleanor needed to concentrate on finding a husband. Then she would never need to leave the children again, if she found a husband who would allow them in the home. Or, at least he would allow her to support them, even if they could not live together. “Very well.” She picked up her reticule. “Promise to send word if Benjamin worsens or anything happens.”

  “I promise.” Leigh hugged her.

  Eleanor trudged down the stairs and to the front door. She would be late but didn’t care. Though she didn’t relish walking through London in the dark, she had little choice. Part of the funds she needed for the hackney were spent on the Dover’s Powder, but she wouldn’t have denied Benjamin medicine regardless.

  She stepped outside to find Lord Bentley leaning against the side of his Phaeton, waiting for her. What was he still doing here? It was kind of him to render assistance earlier, and she would have rejected it if she hadn’t been in a hurry to get back. She never expected him to remain waiting.

  He came forward and offered his arm. “I couldn’t let you take a hackney this late.”

  “I was going to walk.”

  “All the more reason I am glad I waited.” He assisted her up into the conveyance.

  “It is very kind of you, but unnecessary. I am sure you had other matters to attend to than waiting for me.”

  A smile pulled at his lips. She had been right. He was far more handsome when he smiled.

  “I could not leave you to make it back to Mayfair on your own. It is far too dangerous.”

  This was a side of Lord Bentley she had not seen. “Thank you.”

  He clicked the reigns and pulled out into the street. “Why don’t you have a maid with you?”

  It was a reasonable question. A lady wasn’t supposed to leave the house without one. “Because I have to sneak away, if you must know.”

  His head pivoted and an eyebrow shot up. “Pardon?”

  “I learned early on that if I made my destination known, my grandparents came up with a reason for me to remain with them. They don’t feel it is necessary for me to visit my family as often as I do. So, I leave when I have the chance. A lady’s maid would alert them before I could be gone.”

  Lord Bentley chuckled. “While I admire your ingenuity, it is dangerous for a lady to go about alone in London.”

  “I do what I must,” Eleanor bit out. She would not be censured. She didn’t care what risks she took to see her family.

  “How is your brother?”

  “Resting.” She glanced back one more time to make sure Leigh or Mrs. Hartley were not coming after her. “I hate to leave him.”

  “Is it serious?” The concern in his voice was almost her undoing, but Eleanor held tight to her emotions.

  “It seems to be a minor case, but I will worry until he is on the mend.”

  “If you wish to stay with him I can take you back and deliver a note to your grandfather.”

  Oh, if only that were possible. “I am not allowed. Grandfather insists I attend functions and reside under his roof. He would be furious, if you must know.”

  “If it is any consolation, I’ve never liked your grandfather.”

  Eleanor chuckled at the honesty. “Neither do I. But, as he is my guardian, I am left with little choice.”

  “If you wish, I can bring you by tomorrow, so you can check on him.”

  The kindness was her undoing and tears sprang to her eyes. “I should have let them stay in the country. Benjamin wouldn’t be sick if I had.”

  “Nonsense, Miss Westin. I suspect you would have worried more, whether anyone became ill or not.”

  He spoke the truth. She would have gone mad wondering how they were getting along without her. They’d never gone a day without being with each other. She could not have stood weeks of not being around them.

  They arrived before her grandfather’s townhouse. “About tomorrow—”

  “That is very kind of you,” Eleanor stopped him before he could finish. “But I never know when I can get away. Some days it is a near impossibility and others, the visits are early morning or late in the afternoon. I would not have you disturbing your schedule to accommodate my uncertain one.”

  He simply nodded and she was surprised the disappointment that came over her. What did she expect? Lord Bentley was far too busy to wait around until she was
free. Yet, it was very kind of him to ask.

  “Are you going out this evening?”

  “Yes,” she answered, dreading the night ahead. “We are expected at the Hamilton’s ball.”

  He smiled. “Then I shall see you there.”

  *

  Eleanor closed her eyes and allowed the cool breeze from the open windows to wash over her heated skin. A headache was forming at the base of her skull, creeping up from her neck and would soon spread throughout her head, or so she feared. But, she couldn’t stand here with her eyes closed, wishing everyone would go away, or that she could go home and be with Ben. She would be at this event for a few more hours at least and she would force herself through it.

  Straightening she looked around at the throng of people milling about between the dances. To her left, her grandmother gossiped with her friends. To the right, a group of gentlemen discussed the Health and Morals of Apprentices Act that passed some ten years ago. While it was a good plan, there was nothing in place to insure the employers followed the law. Regardless, the topic was certainly more interesting than her grandmother’s conversation. Eleanor took a step closer to listen. Lord Bentley was part of the group and she was curious of his opinions. Until this afternoon, she would have never considered him a caring gentleman. But, he had assisted her when she sincerely needed his help. Maybe she had misjudged him.

  “While I agree that working conditions still need improvement in a number of the textile mills,” He glanced over and looked at her, a slight tilt to his lips, “I fail to see the necessity of education.” Bentley finished.

  She pursed her lips together and looked away. She was not part of the conversation and should not eavesdrop, especially since it would most likely make her angry. She should have known, despite his kindness today that Bentley thought like most gentlemen of his class. They were privileged and had no concept of what the poor faced each day. But her grandmother was still gossiping and Eleanor couldn’t stand to listen to another on dit about some poor soul the ton had decided to fillet this evening.

  Without looking Eleanor continued to listen to the gentlemen. She knew all too well that her own siblings could face the same fate as so many others if she was not successful in her goal. Besides, ladies did not participate in such conversations, she had learned, especially at a societal event. These gentlemen must feel truly passionate about their positions or they would not even be discussing it in the ballroom. There was rumor of a new bill being drafted to address what some perceived to be weaknesses in an earlier Act.

  “You do not agree, Miss Westin?” Bentley asked.

  Startled at being addressed, Eleanor looked over at the group. All six gentlemen were looking at her. Bentley watched her with an eyebrow raised in question.

  “How can education harm anyone, my lord?” She returned.

  “What good is education of the poor?” His lips quirked as if he found her question amusing. “They will still work in the same factories, marry other workers from the factories, and produce further workers for the factories. Where is education needed?”

  It was odd. He wasn’t being condescending as she first believed, but almost debating her. Gentlemen didn’t debate with ladies so what was he about? “Perhaps some would prefer to better their lives.” Eleanor fought to keep her tone conversational and careful of not letting him pull her into this argument.

  “Do you think it is possible for the poor and common to rise above their station?”

  The man was pompous and insufferable.

  Or was he? “There are other venues for the poor to make a living outside of the factories, my lord,” she bit out. “Some may wish to live further out in the country, working on farms, or in shops. An education would help them find a better position that would not force them to be stuck in a dark, musty building for twelve to sixteen hours a day.”

  “While I admire your forward thinking, where would the manufacturers be if all the educated workers left for greener pastures? Who then would work in the factories?”

  “Are you being intentionally obtuse, Lord Bentley?” She tilted her head to study him. “Of course not everyone will take the opportunity provided them. However, there will be some who wish for more, and who are we to deny them?”

  “There will always be poor, Miss Westin. If only half of those educated chose greener pastures then the poor in the country would increase and there would not be enough work for everyone. Would you have the entire country suffer as those in the city?”

  Her face heated in anger but she tried to keep her tone civil. “It has been ten years since the Act was passed. As the poor in the city didn’t migrate to the country immediately, I fail to see why it should be a concern now.”

  *

  He shouldn’t goad her, but what was he to do? Her body was tense this evening and her face drawn. Of course she worried about her brother, but there was nothing either of them could do about it at the moment. Miss Westin stirred something in him that he couldn’t understand. Never had a lady argued with him, and Clay finally admitted to himself, he had enjoyed this debate with Miss Westin. If anything, time with her would never be dull, unlike Lady Anne. “Would you care for a stroll about the room, Miss Westin?”

  She straightened, a question on her brow. It probably did seem rather odd to her since they just spent the better part of fifteen minutes arguing.

  “Go on, dear,” Lady Stanhope insisted.

  “Thank you, Lord Bentley.” Miss Westin settled her hand on his sleeve and instead of strolling the room they walked out into the cool evening. Others stood in small groupings within view of the house. He led her down the steps, further away. It wasn’t that he wished to risk her reputation; he simply wanted to be away from the throng of people for a short bit.

  “I would like to apologize, Miss Westin.”

  Her head snapped up. “For what, Lord Bentley?”

  “Our first encounter.” He bit back a smile. “It was my fault. I should have seen you and did not.”

  Her face flushed. “I should have also been watching, not that I could see through the mass of people.”

  Clay chuckled. “As you said, you do not have my height.” They stopped beside a tree, out of earshot of others outside. “I was also terse in the park.”

  “Tobias practically ran you over,” she admitted with a shy smile. “He got carried away.”

  “He is a boy.” Clay shrugged. “It happens.” At least it is allowed to happen to other boys. Not for his childhood, however. While his brothers played at pirates and knights on the estate, he had been holed up with his father. It was no kind of childhood and he envied his brothers for the freedom they had. Well, two of them had freedom, Jordan and John. Poor Matthew had been made to study more than the rest and Father insisted he achieve a pious attitude if he were to be a good vicar. Did Matthew resent their father as much as he?

  “We have found a smaller park to play in, away from people.”

  Clay sighed. “It is probably best since most of society do not take well to careening children.”

  “So I’ve learned,” she muttered under her breath, yet Clay heard her.

  “I am not one of them.” He felt the need to assure her.

  She raised a brow and looked up as if not believing him.

  “As long as no innocent bystanders are hurt,” he added. Had he not been there, Lady Anne could have easily been knocked to the ground and injured. “Children should be allowed to run, play, and yell. Heaven knows it isn’t allowed when we are adults.” He leaned in to whisper. “Unless you are a young woman chasing down a wayward brother flying a kite.”

  Heat radiated from her skin, but it was too dark to tell if she was blushing.

  “I should have considered my actions in such a public place.”

  “No harm was done, Miss Westin.” He patted her hand. “And for the record, I believe everyone should be allowed an education regardless of their place in the world or economic status.”

  Her chin came up and a s
weet smile spread across her full lips. What would it be like to kiss Miss Westin?

  “That is good to know, Lord Bentley. Then I can assume you only wished to argue with me, perhaps embarrass me before your friends.”

  “Hardly, Miss Westin.” He placed a hand over his heart. “If you must know, I was trying to think of a way to converse with you, and you were listening.”

  She looked away and bit her lip. “I had hoped not to be obvious.”

  “You weren’t,” he turned and continued walking further into the garden. “Only to me, but that is because I can’t help myself but to watch you.”

  She blinked in surprise.

  “You are still worried about your brother?” He asked in a quiet tone.

  “Yes,” she sighed.

  “I thought as much when I saw you standing, not really speaking with anyone.”

  “So you chose to bring me into your argument,” she demanded.

  “Debate, Miss Westin.”

  She pursed her lips and he wanted nothing more than to make them soften. Miss Westin should smile often, but right now they were firm and she looked as if she were trying to decide exactly what to say back. Instead of waiting, Clay did the one thing he longed to do since bringing her out here. He placed a finger under her chin and brought his lips to hers.

  Miss Westin stiffened, then relaxed. After a moment she was returning the kiss. He should pull away and escort her back into the house. He was not a man to kiss innocent young women in gardens. That was Jordan’s job. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to make the break. Her lips were sweet, her scent intoxicating. Snaking a hand around her waist he brought her close to his body and traced the seam of her lips. She opened and he plunged. Desire shot to his groin. He should have known it would be like this. Unable to get her out of his mind, or keep from looking at her at every venue, he knew her kiss would be delicious as he anticipated.