“Oh, of course I will tell her she mustn’t. It just makes me so angry that nothing will happen to that man.”
“I was thinking of suggesting a madhouse,” replied the earl.
This startled her.
“This is not his only outrage. Lord Simon is subject to irrational fits of rage. He has attacked people with a whip. Incidents have been hushed up. Several promising horses were taken ill after his visit to a baron’s racing stable. And he is suspected of cheating at cards. More than suspected, perhaps. I am looking into that.”
“So there are offenses against important people to be taken into account.”
He didn’t deny it. “Forcing his way into my house is so far beyond the line. I think his father will listen.”
“Because you are of his class and rank. And might make trouble for him among those he…values.”
“I am sorry—”
Teresa cut off his apology with a gesture. “Of course I am thankful that you are willing to act. I don’t know what would have become of these girls without you.” That wasn’t true. She had a very good idea. She only wished she didn’t know.
“I am glad to do what I can,” he said.
“Noblesse oblige.” Teresa turned away. “We must be humbly grateful.” She had been expected to appreciate so many unpalatable things in her life. At least the inequity of justice wasn’t a personal slight. Though near-universal oppression was hardly any better.
“Nonsense!” The sharpness of his tone made several of the girls on the other side of the room turn to look at them. “You know I seek no such thing,” he added. “I don’t want your…obeisance for doing a thing that is right. What a repellent idea.”
He said it as if there could be no argument. She’d forgotten his quality for a moment. If she’d found someone like him after her family was killed… Teresa cut off a rush of regrets.
Silence had fallen over the drawing room. Odile looked frightened. “I must speak to them,” she said with a gesture.
“Yes. I had thought we could talk about what kind of help our guests would like, but this is not a good time.”
“No.” He said “our” as if they could both offer aid. But despite his attitude, the gift of largesse remained almost wholly his. And so it would always be, between them.
“Tomorrow perhaps. They must be wondering about the future.”
Teresa nodded. There had been questions. It was undoubtedly time for this little fairy-tale visit to end.
* * *
When Arthur entered his drawing room the next afternoon, he found all of the rescued captives there with Señora Alvarez. Tom was present as well. The lad sat beside Poppy, and they had their heads together. Arthur had noticed that these two talked a good deal when they had the opportunity. Though Poppy was a few years older, Tom’s experience of the world had given him a maturity that belied his age, and they seemed to easily find common ground. Or perhaps common spirit was a better term. They shared an innate optimism and good temper, as well as a dauntless attitude. Tom had been full of admiration when he heard that Poppy had set fire to the house where she’d been imprisoned.
Arthur sat in an armchair so that he would not seem to be lecturing the group. “I should tell you first that Lord Simon Farange has been sent away from London,” he said. “He will not be returning.”
“Who will stop him?” asked Odile.
“His family.” Arthur had put forceful arguments to the duke, who had seen his points.
“So they say now.” Odile looked wan.
“They will see to it,” said Arthur. He believed the duke would keep his word. The man was unpleasant but not dishonorable. He certainly did not want his name dragged through the mud, which Lord Simon seemed hell-bent on doing.
“So nothing’s going to happen to him?” asked Poppy. “He’ll be living the high life on some country estate?” She scowled. “Doing what he likes with the maidservants.”
“No.” Arthur looked around the room. “The terms have been set out very clearly. He will reside at a small country house, yes. But he will be supervised by men under orders from his father.” His suggestion of a madhouse had not been well received.
“What is this ‘supervised’?” asked Odile.
“Guarded,” replied Arthur. “Deprived of all his…customary amusements. The estate is up near the Scottish border, and he will not be allowed to leave there.” There was muttering, which he understood. Señora Alvarez was unusually silent. “I have made my own arrangements to keep watch on the place,” he added. “Should anything go wrong with this agreement, steps will be taken.”
Around the room, they digested this news. “I hope this beast will be misérable in this place,” said Odile.
“I think he will be,” Arthur replied.
“Not so much as we were under his hand,” muttered Sonia.
“His lordship has been very kind to act in this,” said Señora Alvarez. “The punishment is worse than this canalla would be likely to receive if he stood before a judge.”
She never called him “his lordship.” Arthur pushed on in a circle of frowns. “With that settled, I thought we might talk about what comes next. What would be most helpful to you.”
“You want us out of your house,” said Sonia.
“You know you cannot 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.