Page 4 of The Duke and the Enigmatic Governess
The young woman gasped and, face flushing a peach pink, pulled her robe tightly around her body. It was a flimsy silk robe, which still clung to every curve, but it did give a semblance of dignity.
“Barton, Jake,” Jude called to his men. “Let’s help the constable. Look around and see if anyone saw anything or knows this woman. Though in this weather that seems unlikely.”
The street was eerily deserted; all the windows had closed again. He knew this part of town, and it wasn’t unusual for the streets to seem empty at this time of night. The doorway that the woman in white had appeared from, was at the Bell Inn, a coaching inn with a large sign welcoming travelers, creaking in the breeze. He thought it likely any answers would be found there.
He murmured reassuringly to the child, who was crying with muffled sobs, repeating “Mama, Mama,” before following the constable and the nameless woman in white to the Bell Inn.
The doorway was barred by the burly innkeeper. Arms crossed, he stood tall, making it clear no one would enter the inn.
“Now, Richard, let this young lady through to her room,” said the constable. “Be reasonable. You look like you’ve made a blockade there.”
“You’re not wrong, Fred,” responded Richard Compton, innkeeper of the Bell. “Liz, my wife, noticed that young woman and her child last night when she was serving supper. Coughing and spluttering, she didn’t look well.”
He glared at the constable, clearly determined not to let anyone back in before continuing. “It might be consumption, or more likely the putrid sore throat. There was a case of that down Albion Street last week, a young girl died of it. I’ve got my business and reputation to think of, not to mention my own children. Liz would eat my guts for garters if I let that young woman and child back in.” He gestured them away from the door.
“You’ve all been exposed and should stay away from other folk. They can take their illness elsewhere,” he added with a look of finality.
The young woman looked stunned and unsure what to say. Jude saw her shoulder’s sag and he wanted to make it easier for her.
“But Mr. Compton, I have to take the stagecoach north in the morning. My new employer will be expecting me. All my clothes and belongings are in my room,” the woman pleaded.
“That may be the case, miss, but the missus is packing your things, and those of that young woman who collapsed, and I believe I can hear her coming downstairs now. Liz, is that you?” he called behind him.
“All packed and ready, my dear,” came the reply and Compton placed their portmanteau on the street outside the Bell, turned, and closed the door.
Looking bewildered, the woman in white spoke in a voice so quiet, it was hard to hear her words.
“What am I to do? I’ve nowhere to go. And what about this poor child who has just lost her mother? Is there no charity in the hearts of men and women anymore?”
The constable coughed. “You could find room at the poor house.” He paused. “But you sound like a lady of quality to me. I don’t think you will want to be in the poor house. I can take the little girl there, though Compton has a point about the illness. It might be contagious, we don’t know.”
Without thinking of the complications or propriety, Jude spoke calmly to the constable. “That child isn’t going to the poor house just hours after witnessing her mother’s death. They can stay with me, in my townhouse at Cambourne Place.” He was thankful his mother and sisters were all at the country estate, well away from any danger of contagion.
“That makes a lot of sense, Your Grace, if I do say so myself, a whole lot of sense. I’d be most grateful if you’d take them in.” The constable was obviously relieved.
The young woman looked at Jude with relief and nodded her thanks.
“I just need a word with yourself and the young lady before you leave,” added the constable. “Starting with your name, miss, if you don’t mind?”
“Very well,” said the vision in white, “though I do have to say, Constable, that the priority should be to get this child into a warm bed. Let’s get this over with. I’m La-” she began forcefully, before stopping suddenly.
She stumbled over saying her name, but Jude was not surprised given everything that had happened. The shock was obviously beginning to penetrate her previously calm demeanor.
The woman was looking confused, looking around, as if for inspiration. “I’m Laetitia Banks,” she stuttered, pausing before continuing with more certainty, “Miss Laetitia Banks, Lettie Banks. I’m on my way to be governess to a family near Harrogate.”
“Well, miss, I don’t think you should be going into a house with children when you might be contagious with the morbid sore throat or some such. Best to wait a few days.”
“Very well. I don’t know who this gentleman is, but it seems I have no option but to accept his hospitality on behalf of myself and this poor child.”
Jude stepped forward, “I apologize, Miss Banks, for my lack of fine manners. I have not introduced myself. Jude Lightholder, Duke of Clairville.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, but she kept her poise, and he admired her for that.
“Then pray let us get this child into your carriage and near a warm fire as soon as possible. She is trembling and in shock.”
So, the vision in white was Miss Laetitia Banks, and as he listened to her voice, so soothing and lovely he almost forgot where he was.
Get a grip, Clairville, he told himself. That must have been very strong cognac Daniel served tonight.
