Night at the opera, p.16
Night at the Opera, page 16
“Since university,” he answered with a shrug. “Although Roddy and I first met back when we were boys at Eaton.”
“Mr. Hanbury didn’t attend Eaton with you?”
The earl shook his head. “He lived in Germany until he was sixteen.”
“Did his family come to England with him?”
“Only his mother and sister. His father died the year before they moved to Britain, but the man’s brother was already living here.”
Did Mr. Hanbury still have family members living in Germany? If not, did he feel enough affection for his mother country that he’d turn on England?
“Do his mother and sister live in London too?” Gwen couldn’t recall Mr. Hanbury mentioning any relatives living nearby. Then again, the man typically mentioned very little about himself—or about any subject, for that matter.
“They usually come to London for the season, though they didn’t this time. The rest of the year they reside at Hanbury’s estate in Scotland.” Lord Whitson nudged his mount closer to Gwen’s. “Why the sudden fascination with Hanbury, Miss Barton? Aren’t you interested in getting to know me better as well?”
Gwen didn’t know whether to roll her eyes or physically cringe at the man’s conceitedness. “I’d like to hear about your family too, Lord Whitson.” She had to push the words from her mouth.
“My father is a marquess and my mother is from an old royal line in Europe . . .”
The man arrogantly droned on and on. Gwen found her thoughts wandering before settling on what Lord Whitson had revealed about his friend. There certainly seemed to be great potential for continued ties with Germany for Mr. Hanbury. Were his mother and sister aware of his duplicitous activities? Or could they be involved as well?
Gwen couldn’t wait to relay to Avery all that she’d learned. She would see him soon, when he came to call upon her and her mother that afternoon during their at-home day, which Cornelia had pushed back by an hour to accommodate Gwen’s morning ride with Lord Whitson. But there would be no time to talk privately with Avery. His visit was solely to help establish his pseudo role as Gwen’s suitor.
The idea of sitting in the parlor, listening to her mother’s poorly disguised prying into Avery’s inheritance and his intentions, sounded painfully awkward. Still, the thought of seeing him so soon brought a traitorous leap to her pulse. Even though it shouldn’t. The doorway that led to more than friendship with Avery was shut and boarded up, if it had ever been open to begin with. If only Gwen could convince herself to believe that.
She needed to stay her current course of assisting Avery with his spying, seeing the doctor again about her foot, and learning the identity of the man from the opera. Hopefully Avery would have information on the latter soon.
The memory of that kiss prompted a smile from Gwen. It was difficult to be despondent whenever she remembered how she’d felt that night. Surely the stranger from the opera box, whoever he might be, would be the ideal suitor, one far more committed and willing to see and love her than any of the others, including Avery.
A surge of purpose had Gwen sitting up straighter in the side saddle and urging her horse faster. Lord Whitson broke off speaking for a moment in order to keep his mount in line with hers, but once that was accomplished, he began another monologue on the subject of his family’s various country estates.
This time Gwen didn’t feel so irritated. She’d discovered more information about Mr. Hanbury, and she hadn’t even questioned him herself yet. If she failed to marry this season or to think of some way to better help the orphanage, then maybe she could make a career out of spying instead.
Chapter 13
Avery drummed his fingers on the side of the open carriage, waiting for Gwen to exit the Rodmills’ townhouse for their scheduled outing. Over the past nine days he’d visited twice with her and her mother during their at-home day. He’d also secured as many invitations as he could to the social engagements Gwen was already planning to attend.
Mrs. Barton had easily accepted Avery as a viable match for her daughter, after receiving what appeared to be satisfactory answers to her plentiful, and at times slightly ill-mannered, questions regarding his family, their estate, and his uncle’s history of health. In securing his role as an interested suitor, Avery believed he and Gwen had been successful. But each public interaction with her had left him feeling more disappointed than triumphant. It wasn’t until last night, though, that he’d finally ascertained why.
He missed talking freely and openly with Gwen. Not that she didn’t participate in conversation with him during his calls or their shared social engagements. But there had been moments when he couldn’t determine what she was thinking or why certain questions from her mother made Gwen visibly flinch. He couldn’t ask her, though, not while Mrs. Barton or others were seated nearby, listening to every word.
That had to be the reason for his eagerness at seeing her again today—a chance to converse with her without anyone else around. And there was nothing wrong with looking forward to speaking privately with a friend. Besides, he also couldn’t wait to share with Gwen where they were headed today. He’d concocted the idea earlier in the week, then sent a note to Gwen instructing her to wear her most durable visiting dress and stating the time he would call on her with his open carriage.
At that moment, the front door opened and Gwen stepped outside. The instant her eyes met his, a familiar sensation of contentment and anticipation prompted an almost boyish smile from him. She slowly descended the stone steps as Avery climbed out of the carriage. Even without a hat and dressed in a simpler gown than he was accustomed to seeing her wear, she still looked as elegant and graceful as always.
“I’m going to dispense with the pleasantries,” she said, her gaze sparkling. “Instead I want to know where we’re going this afternoon.”
He pretended to consider her request. “We might first wish to discuss what information you’ve gleaned.” Gwen had mentioned in her answer to his note that she had a list of things to share in regards to her assigned task. The news had been nearly as welcome as her agreement to join him today.
“I can tell you in a minute. After I know where we’re going.”
With a chuckle, Avery helped her into the carriage, doing his best to ignore how much it affected him every time he touched her hand. Or how profoundly he’d been moved by their shared kiss inside the opera box.
He set aside such thoughts before his expression gave anything away. “I believe it would be much more fun to have you guess.”
“You are impossible.” She shook her head with what appeared to be as much amusement as annoyance. He took his seat across from her, and the carriage rolled forward. “Fine,” she said, throwing him an arched look. “May I at least have a hint?”
Avery nodded. “Certainly. Our outing has a great deal to do with something you feel strongly about.”
Her brow furrowed. “My . . . faith?”
“No.”
“Talking with Dr. Smithfield again?”
“Another good guess, but no.” He was enjoying this, especially the play of emotions crossing her lovely face.
“My family?”
He shook his head.
“Avery!” Her tone implied scolding, but she was laughing too. “Just tell me.”
“Very well.” He leaned forward, not wanting to miss any part of her reaction. “I’ve arranged for us to tour . . . an orphanage.”
Gwen’s hazel eyes widened in surprise for a moment, then her gaze softened as she smiled fully. Not the polite smile he’d seen many times in public or the one she gave her other suitors. This smile implied more than courtesy. It offered him warmth and gratitude and tenderness. And it made him wish to inspire such a smile every day for the rest of his life.
“An orphanage? Avery, that’s wonderful.”
He shrugged, feeling self-conscious. When was the last time he’d chosen to do something similar for someone else? Something arranged purely for the pleasure it brought him to see their enjoyment? He couldn’t recall.
Avery liked to think he was a good friend to Linwood and that he treated his staff kindly. But he wasn’t sure he’d truly given someone the gift of his time like this since his last visit to Beechwood, when he’d played whist with his grandmother for an entire day. Were there others in his life to whom he could give the gift of his time in doing something they loved like he was doing with Gwen today? Perhaps even with his uncle. The idea was certainly worth pondering more deeply.
“Did you hear what I said, Avery, about riding with Lord Whitson the other week?”
He would ponder his musings later. “My apologies, Gwen. What about your ride with the earl?”
“I was able to get him to answer some questions about Mr. Hanbury.” She spoke in a low voice but also one that seemed to resound with happiness at her success.
“That’s brilliant.” Even he hadn’t thought to broach the subject of Hanbury with the earl, though he knew the two men were longtime friends. “What did he say?”
Gwen shared what information she’d learned about Hanbury and his family. Most of it wasn’t news to Avery, though it did serve to verify some of the facts. However, Gwen wasn’t finished. She’d also seen Hanbury earlier in the week at a reception Avery hadn’t been able to coax an invite to and had managed to glean additional details from the man himself.
“Mr. Hanbury may be a linguist like you, but at one point, he had a plan to join the German navy.”
“He did?” How was it Avery had never heard this bit about Hanbury before?
It was Gwen’s turn to look pleased at his surprise. “His grandfather was a ship builder, and Mr. Hanbury has always had a fascination for boats. If his father hadn’t died, he would have joined the Imperial German Navy. As it was, he didn’t want to leave his mother and sister behind for such long stretches after his father passed, so he changed his plans.”
“Gwen, you are a wonder,” he said with an admiring shake of his head. “This is exactly why I needed your help.”
A blush drew attention to her cream-colored cheeks. “I have to admit it was rather fun. I hope the information will be useful too.” Before he could reply, she changed the subject. “Tell me about this orphanage we’re touring. How did you hear about it?”
“The proprietor is the son of one of my grandmother’s dearest friends.” Avery clasped his hands together and leaned forward. As much as the orphanage had a respected reputation, it was far away from the posh neighborhoods of the ton. He needed to prepare Gwen for what they might encounter during their visit. “The orphanage is located in a rather poor section of the city. Not the slums per se, though it isn’t much of a stone’s throw away from them either. If you’d rather we turn back and find something else to occupy our afternoon, I’ll understand.”
Gwen regarded him with a look that conveyed both resolve and a measure of sadness. “Do you really think the caliber of the neighborhood would deter me from wanting to see this place and its children?”
He felt an instant stab of chagrin. How could he have doubted Gwen’s strength, even for a moment? She’d proven herself more genuine, more caring, and more courageous than any other woman he’d ever met. Of course she wouldn’t faint or waver from her goal at the first sign of poverty.
“I should’ve known differently. I’m sorry, Gwen.”
The disappointment in her expression faded. “Heartwell House may be in a respectable, middle-class neighborhood back in New York, but I’m not unfamiliar with the destitution that is rampant in the city either.” She glanced out the side of the open carriage, seeing something Avery couldn’t. “I’ve gone with my cousin and his wife to visit some of those poverty-stricken tenements. Most of the children living at their orphanage have known no other way of life prior to their arrival at Heartwell House.”
Her words prompted more questions from him about her cousin’s orphanage and about the man himself. Avery was as interested in her answers as he was at watching her as she talked. Her passion for caring for others, particularly children, shone in every word, inflection, and gesture. Before he knew it, his driver had parked the carriage beside a narrow street.
Turning on his seat, the salt-and-pepper-haired driver addressed Avery. “Afraid this is as close as I can get her, sir.”
Standing, Avery exited the carriage. “It’s quite all right. We’ll climb out here.” He turned to Gwen and helped her down. “I was thinking after this, we could view the Thames up close if you’d like.”
“I would love that,” she said with a smile.
He instructed his driver when and where to meet them in two hours’ time. Then Avery glanced up at the buildings around them. “I believe it’s this way.” He motioned to the narrow street before them.
The daylight shrank behind them as they walked farther away from the main street. Simultaneously, the smell of spoiled food and rubbish expanded until it nearly choked Avery. People, mostly children, eyed them with as much suspicion as curiosity from rickety staircases and worn doorways. Gwen kept a slow, measured step alongside him, not once shrinking or looking appalled. Instead she walked with her head up, her sorrow-filled eyes studying the scenes around them.
The rise and fall of children’s voices prefaced their arrival at the orphanage’s front door. Avery knocked and they were admitted by a young lady in servant’s livery. The proprietor, Mr. Shellings, greeted Avery warmly. Avery then introduced Gwen to the older man.
“I was delighted to receive your note, Winfield. Is there anything in particular that you wished to see?”
Avery smiled. “I’m actually here as an observer, Mr. Shellings.” He motioned to Gwen. “Miss Barton, on the other hand, has done a great deal of work at her cousin’s orphanage in New York, and it is her for whom I wanted to set up this tour.”
“Is that right?” Mr. Shellings nodded with approval at Gwen. “What can you tell me about your own work, Miss Barton?”
Gwen briefly explained the history behind her cousin’s orphanage and her desire to continue helping there. By the time she was finished, it was evident to Avery that she’d completely won over Mr. Shellings with her honest compassion.
“Shall we?” The older man led the way down the hall. Avery and Gwen followed behind him. They passed the stairwell, where two girls and a boy stared at them through the banisters. Gwen offered them a small wave and a smile. They returned the gestures shyly before racing upstairs.
The tour took them all over the building, through the classrooms and dormitories as well as outside to the small courtyard and vegetable patch. Along the way, the three of them were joined by a small entourage of children. Mr. Shellings gave them a scolding look, but he didn’t dismiss them, even when he and Gwen remained conversing outside.
A tug on Avery’s coat prompted him to look down. A young boy with blue-green eyes watched him with solemn eagerness. “Hello.”
“Hello,” Avery answered with a smile. “What’s your name?”
“Edmund, sir.”
“Pleased to meet you, Edmund. I’m Avery.” He gave the lad’s hand a hearty shake.
He didn’t know any children personally and was never sure how to act around them, but he sensed a comrade in this boy with the curious expression and scuffed shoes. Avery had worn out a fair number of shoes himself as a child from all of his ramblings about the estate.
“Are you an inspector?” the boy asked, looking Avery over. “Come to see how the place is run?”
Avery crouched down beside him. “Actually, I’m with the lady over there.” He tipped his head in Gwen’s direction. “She helps orphans in America and wants to know how she can do more.”
“She looks nice and very pretty.”
“I quite agree, Edmund,” Avery said, his gaze on Gwen. She was still talking with Mr. Shellings, but she was also deftly braiding the hair of a little girl leaning against her skirt.
“Is she your wife?”
Avery returned his attention to the boy. “Afraid not, lad.”
Edmund’s face scrunched with thought. “Do you have a mum and a dad then?”
“No, not anymore.”
“Me neither. Suppose that makes us both orphans.” His sorrowful look and truth-filled statement gently pulled at Avery’s compassion. “I have me a sister, though. Do you have a sister?”
Avery straightened. “No, I don’t have a sister or a brother.”
“So you haven’t got a mum or a dad, or a sister or a brother, or a wife, even?” Edmund sounded incredulous. When Avery nodded, the boy continued. “Who takes care of you?”
He was tempted to laugh until he realized the lad’s inquiry was in earnest. “I suppose I take care of myself, though I do have a grandmother and an uncle and some good friends.”
“And God. You have him too, sir.”
Did he? Avery shifted his weight from shoe to shoe as a sense of consternation washed through him. His mother would likely be saddened by his doubts if she were still here. Then again, might Avery have held to his faith with greater conviction and courage if she hadn’t died? He supposed he would never know.
Looking at Edmund again, he couldn’t help asking a question of his own. “Who taught you about God, Edmund?”
“Me sister, sir, and Mrs. Shellings and the vicar at the church we orphans go to.”
“Do you truly believe them? That God knows and cares for you?”
The boy gave an enthusiastic nod.
“How do you know?” A part of him felt silly at having a religious discussion with a boy who couldn’t be more than nine or ten. And yet Avery truly wanted to understand how a lad in such circumstances could still cling to faith. Just as he’d been interested in learning how Gwen’s faith had remained strong after her accident.
Edmund lifted his thin shoulders in a shrug. “I know ‘cause I asked Him.”
“You asked . . . God?”
The lad gave him a look as if Avery were daft. “One night when I said me prayers, I just asked. Like me sister told me to. ‘God, do you care about little ol’ Edmund Morley or not?’”
