Elizabeth Hoyt: Scandalous Desires

The door was flung open before Silence could touch it.

“Have you found her?” Nell Jones, the home’s trusted maidservant, looked eager, but her bright blue eyes dimmed when she saw Silence’s empty arms. Nell’s pretty face was flushed, one blond lock fluttering around her ear—her disorder a measure of how worried she was about Mary Darling.

“I did find Mary Darling,” Silence said hastily. “But… well, it’s a long story.”

“And who are these two?” Nell asked suspiciously, eyeing Harry and Bert.

“Gentlemen what ’as seen yer mistress safely ’ome,” Harry said. He removed the battered tricorne from his head, revealing a thinning patch of straggly brown hair, and bowed rather elegantly, considering his size.

“Huh,” Nell sniffed, though her tone was less strident. “Best come inside, then.”

The entryway to the home was narrow and cramped and the two men seemed to take up not only what little room there was, but the air as well.

Nell stared at them disapprovingly for a moment and then turned to a small boy loitering curiously behind her. “Joseph Tinbox, take these, er, gentlemen back to the kitchen and ask Mary Whitsun to make them a pot of tea.”

“Why, that’s quite kind o’ ye, ma’am.” Harry beamed.

Silence was surprised to see Nell fight to keep her face stern.

“Mind nothing goes missing in there,” the maid said gruffly. “I know everything in that kitchen down to the vinegar shakers.”

Harry placed his hand over his heart. “I’ll keep me eye on Bert, ’ere. See that ’e don’t pocket a spoon or nothin’.”

With an indignant snort from Bert, Joseph Tinbox led them off.

“Hurry,” Silence said as she made for the stairs. “I had to leave Mary Darling behind and I want to get back quickly.”

“Back where?” Nell cried as she followed Silence up the stairs, panting.

“To Mickey O’Connor’s house.”

“Dear Lord in Heaven,” Nell muttered. “Is that where you rushed off to after reading the note? To see that devil?”

Silence had returned from the shopping that morning to find that Mary had somehow disappeared from the home. Everyone in the house—all eight and twenty children, three maids, and the lone manservant—had immediately begun searching for her. But it wasn’t until a mysterious note had been delivered hours later that Silence had even thought of Mickey O’Connor.

“The note was from Mr. O’Connor saying he might have something I’d want,” Silence said breathlessly as they made the top floor of the house. The room she shared with Mary Darling was up here under the eaves. “He’s Mary’s father.”

“What?” Nell had finally caught up with her and she laid a hand on Silence’s arm. “How long have you known this?”

Silence bit her lip. “I’ve suspected it for some time. You remember Mary’s mysterious admirer? The one who used to leave presents for her on the step?”

“Yes.” Nell sank onto the narrow bed in Silence’s room, her pretty face creased with worry.

“A couple of months ago, just before Christmas, he left me a lock of black hair.” Silence pulled a small trunk from under the bed. She straightened and looked at Nell. “The lock matched Mary Darling’s hair.”

“And you think Mickey O’Connor left it for you?”

“I don’t know.” Silence shrugged. “But I think it must’ve been him. I thought I saw him watching me and Mary Darling once or twice last fall.”

“If he’s her father, why did Mickey O’Connor leave her with you?”

“He says he was trying to protect her from his enemies.” Silence began to throw clothes into the chest. “Perhaps he thought her safely hidden with me. Perhaps he was merely playing a game to amuse himself.”

Nell shook her head as if dazed. “But what of the baby’s mother? Surely she had some say in the matter?”

Silence froze, her hand outstretched for one of Mary’s frocks hanging on a hook. She turned her head and stared at Nell. “Her mother—my goodness, he never even mentioned the woman.”

“Perhaps she’s dead.” Nell frowned. “Do you think Mickey O’Connor was married? I never heard of such, but he’s a secretive scoundrel.”

“I don’t know.” Silence took the frock with shaking fingers and placed it carefully in the trunk before closing the lid. “I only know that I must go live with him now.”

“What?” Nell jumped to her feet in alarm.

Silence locked the trunk. “He says that Mary is in danger from his enemies and he won’t let her leave his house. If I’m to be with her, I must live with him.”

Nell lifted one end of the trunk even as she moaned. “But after what he did to you—”

“I haven’t any choice, don’t you see?” Silence walked to the door, the heavy little trunk between them.

“But the home—”

“Oh, goodness!” Silence stopped and stared at Nell.

She’d been so busy worrying over Mary Darling, she’d not thought of what her actions would do to the home. In the last year the Home for Unfortunate Infants and Foundling Children had gained the patronage of several aristocratic ladies—ladies who cared terribly about appearances and reputations. The home depended on their donations. If they found out that Silence was staying with a man—a pirate— without benefit of marriage…

Silence’s eyes widened. “You mustn’t let anyone know where I am. We can say that I’ve gone to attend an ill aunt in the country.”

“And Mr. Makepeace?” Nell muttered as they began to descend the staircase. “What shall I say to him?”

Silence stumbled, nearly dropping her end of the trunk. She’d forgotten she’d have to deal with Winter’s disapproval as well. Her brother had made a journey to Oxford on business and thus had been away from the home when Mary Darling’s absence had been discovered. This morning Silence had wished desperately for her brother’s support in searching for the little girl. Now she was thankful he was away. Winter was a mild man, a schoolmaster by trade, as well as manager of the home, but she had no doubt at all that he would’ve locked her in her room before letting her go to Mickey O’Connor.

Just the thought made her hurry her step. “I’m truly sorry, Nell, to leave you with the chore of telling Winter but I can’t stay. I need to go to Mary Darling.”

“Of course you do,” Nell said stoutly.

Silence shot her a quick smile. “None of this is your fault and Mr. Makepeace will understand that.”

“I surely hope so, ma’am.”

By the time they’d descended the rest of the stairs Silence was perspiring from exertion and anxiety. Winter wasn’t expected back for days, yet she couldn’t help jumping when the door to the kitchen opened.

“Take that, shall I?” Harry asked as he strolled out, a bun in one hand. He grasped one of the trunk’s handles and easily swung it to his broad back.

Nell straightened, hands on hips and glared. “Watch you don’t drop the mistress’s things.”

“O’ course not,” Harry said easily, earning himself a disgusted grunt from Bert.

Nell looked at Silence and her face seemed to crumple. “Oh, ma’am!” She threw her apron over her face and let out a loud, hiccupping sob.

“It’s all right, Nell, really ’tis,” Silence said helplessly.

She didn’t know whether or not she believed the words herself, but what else was she to say? Tears were pricking her eyes now as well. She’d lived at the home for just over a year, learned of her husband William’s death last fall here, discovered she was more than a wife here—that she could stand on her own two feet and be of use to others. Now she was leaving suddenly and without warning. She felt as if the very ground beneath her feet was unstable. She had no home now—hadn’t since William’s death, really—all she had was Mary Darling.