A Most Unconventional Match (8 page)

‘Ah, I see. Sentimental value. But one soldier's as good as another, eh? Except on a battlefield, perhaps.' Sir Gregory chuckled at his own joke.

David did not look amused. ‘They are not alike,' he replied, frowning. ‘General Blücher was the head of all the Prussian soldiers. Napoleon might have won Waterloo, Papa said, if General Blücher hadn't come with his men. This soldier—' he held up the baronet's gift ‘—is a Royal Irish Dragoon guardsman. They didn't fight at Waterloo.'

‘Perhaps,' Sir Gregory said, clearly beginning to lose patience. ‘But it's only play, son. Would you rather have a working soldier or a broken general?'

David set his chin. ‘I want
Papa's
general. Besides, Mr Waterman is going to fix him. I don't need yours!'

Tears in his eyes, the boy tossed the soldier to the floor and ran out of the room.

Aghast, Elizabeth watched the door slam behind him. In many ways, David seemed so mature for his age, sometimes it was hard to remember he wasn't yet seven. Still a baby, really, and aching for the father he missed so keenly.

Embarrassed none the less, Elizabeth turned back to the scowling baronet, who was staring at the rejected toy. With a nervous smile, she went over and picked it up.

‘I'm dreadfully sorry. I know when he's calmer, David will prize the gift. You must excuse him, he's still so overwrought—'

‘Poor behaviour shouldn't be excused, Lizbet, regardless of the circumstances,' Sir Gregory said blightingly. ‘You do the child no favour by indulging him just because he had the misfortune to lose his papa. Society will judge him on his comportment—which, I am sorry to report, in this instance was sadly lacking. But now I must go. Do be on your guard about Mr Waterman. I shall call and check on you later. Madam.' After giving her a stiff bow, Sir Gregory walked out.

Elizabeth exhaled a trembling breath. She understood only too well how the mere thought of discarding a prized toy his father had given him, an object that represented many hours the two had spent together, Everitt spinning stories about Waterloo, David hanging on every word as they manoeuvred his soldiers in mock battle, would upset her son. It must seem to the boy almost like suggesting he toss away the memory of his father. Small wonder he'd taken Sir Gregory's well-meant gift so badly.

But it was a gift and it had been well meant. Sir Gregory was correct. Some time later she would have to reprimand David and bring him to realise that his behaviour had been unacceptable. Worse still, she was going to have to induce him to apologise.

How she'd bring that about, with David already so ill disposed towards Sir Gregory, she'd worry about later. With a sigh at having the day that had started out so promising turn suddenly sour, Elizabeth set off to soothe her son and coax him down for nuncheon.

T
wo mornings later, trying to quell the nervousness in his gut, Hal rang the bell at Mrs Lowery's Green Street town house. Truly, he'd rather face down a dozen Mr Smiths in some low dive in Seven Dials than meet one Elizabeth Lowery in her drawing room.

The butler who answered the door informed Hal that his mistress was presently working in her studio and ushered him to a salon to wait while he informed Mrs Lowery of his arrival. Hal's request that Master David be summoned from the schoolroom to see him in the interim was unusual enough to surprise a momentary raise of eyebrows from the butler before Sands bowed himself out.

A little shamefaced, Hal paced the parlour. David having mentioned that his mama always worked in her studio in the morning, he'd deliberately timed his visit for this hour. He'd wanted a respite after he arrived in the house to settle his nerves and a chance to visit the boy before he subjected himself once again to Elizabeth Lowery's unsettling presence.

When he was finally ushered into her office, he must be able to concentrate on getting out the words to accurately describe the state of Lowery's finances. He could not let himself be distracted by the rose scent that wafted from her or the mesmerising blue of her eyes that beckoned him to halt in mid-syllable and simply gaze into them. Or the perfection of her skin that made him burn to feel the silk of her face beneath his fingertips…

Catching the direction of his thoughts, he shook his head. He'd have to do better than this. He had but to recall her and his body began hardening, his mind losing its grip on his purpose in coming here. For a few panicked seconds, he considered bolting from the house.

But he couldn't do his duty by running away and delaying wouldn't make confronting her any easier. He'd never shied from dealing with difficult situations—witness the last seven years of handling his mother—and didn't intend to let Nicky down by starting now.

As he rallied himself, he heard the rapid patter of approaching footsteps. A moment later, David burst into the room, the broken soldier dangling from one hand.

The glowing look on the boy's face as he skidded to a halt just inside the threshold temporarily dispelled all Hal's misgivings. ‘Oh, Mr Waterman!' David exclaimed. ‘You came back!'

Once again, Hal was catapulted back to a time when he had been small, grieving and friendless. It was worth all the difficulties he would encounter being around the boy's mama to bring that look of pleasure and relief to the child's face.

‘'Course. Promised I would.'

The boy's excitement faded. ‘I made Mama angry,' he confessed. ‘About the general. I didn't mean to. But Papa's friend Sir Gregory wanted me to throw him away and take a soldier he brought me instead. It wasn't a general, just a soldier, not even a Waterloo soldier. I…I threw it on the floor.' The boy hung his head.

‘Mama read you a scold?'

David nodded. ‘She says I have to 'pologise to Sir Gregory. I did thank him for the soldier. But I don't want it. I don't want anything from him. I wish he would stay away.'

‘Father's friend, you said?' Hal asked.

Looking suddenly apprehensive, David gazed up at Hal. ‘Are you going to be angry with me, too?'

Hal shook his head. ‘No. Ladies want you to be polite, though. Family friend. Trying to help.'

‘That's what Mama said. But I don't like him. He never looks at me when he talks. He looks at Mama, and his eyes get all funny. 'Sides, you are going to help until Uncle Nicky comes back, aren't you? Mama said you would.'

‘Promised, didn't I?'

‘You'll be my friend, like Uncle Nicky?'

Hal could imagine only too well what it meant to the boy right now to have a man upon whom he could depend. Would that one had appeared in his life at such a juncture! He stuck out his hand. ‘Friend.'

Solemnly the boy shook it. ‘Best friend. Are you going to fix the general now?'

‘Try to.'

‘How? May I watch, please?'

Hal nodded as he withdrew a coil of wire and a pocketknife from his waistcoat. Accepting the toy the boy handed him, he motioned David to follow as he took the soldier over by the window to work in the grey morning light. Quickly he removed the broken wire that attached the toy arm, inserted and secured a new one.

‘See if it moves correctly now,' Hal said.

Eagerly the boy jiggled the arm. ‘It works!' he declared. ‘Thank you! Papa would be proud of you!'

Hal chuckled even as something twisted in his stomach. Whatever his financial failings, Everitt Lowery had been a good father to his son, one who had obviously lavished on the boy both time and praise.

The image flashed into Hal's mind of a tall blond man, his features blurred by time, calling out encouragement as Hal brought his first pony to a trot. The impression vanished before he could bring it fully into focus.

‘Let's go show Mama!' David said, holding the toy up with both hands. ‘She won't be angry any more when she sees how you well you fixed him.'

At that moment, Sands reappeared at the door. ‘Mrs Lowery will see you now, Mr Waterman.'

‘See?' David said. ‘We can go in.'

Trying to gird himself against the inevitable shock of his response to Elizabeth Lowery, Hal took the hand the boy offered and walked with him down the hall.

After the butler announced him, Hal followed David into the studio, the child fairly dancing with excitement as he ran to his mother. ‘See, Mama, Mr Waterman came back! And look, he just fixed the general for me!'

Mrs Lowery turned and curtsied to Hal's bow. Once again the sheer loveliness of her flowed over him in a wave of sensation he felt in every nerve.

It was easier this time, he tried to tell himself. At least he expected the response, while David's eager chatter gave him a few moments to bind up his ravelling wits.

‘How kind of Mr Waterman,' Elizabeth said as she inspected the toy. ‘You thanked him properly, I trust.'

‘Oh, yes, Mama. I'm ever so grateful. He fixed him almost as good as Papa. And he says he will be my friend until Uncle Nicky comes back.'

‘That is handsome indeed,' his mother said, flashing Hal a smile of gratitude. ‘He is doing both of us a great service, so you must promise not to tax him too much.'

David was silent for a moment. ‘Does that mean I can't ask him to play soldiers with me?'

‘He will probably be too busy, son. He has a house and many duties of his own, besides the ones he has undertaken for us. Besides, I am not certain I should allow you to play with the general right now. Remember what we talked about.'

David grimaced. ‘I was very rude to Sir Gregory and I cannot play with soldiers again until I 'pologise to him. Not even the general?' he asked with pleading eyes.

‘I think you must leave the general with me,' she replied. With a heavy sigh, David gave her the soldier.

‘Thank you, son. Now, Mr Waterman doubtless has matters to discuss, so back to the schoolroom with you. And no more sneaking away from Nurse!'

‘But I didn't—' the boy protested.

‘No arguments, if you please,' his mother cut him off. ‘Make your bow and leave like a proper young gentleman.'

Though Hal knew he probably should stay out of any dispute between mother and son, fairness compelled him to attempt to intervene. By the time he assembled the words, David had already dipped him a bow and headed to the door.

The sad expression on the boy's face as he looked over his shoulder one last time at the toy now reposing on his mother's workbench fired an anger that propelled Hal into speech. ‘Didn't sneak down!' he burst out as the door shut behind David. ‘Asked Sands to fetch him. So I could repair toy.'

Clearly surprised, Elizabeth fixed that vivid blue-eyed gaze on him again. ‘You…sent for David?'

Hal struggled to focus on his ire and keep his words moving forward. ‘Yes. Shouldn't take away favourite toy.'

‘How very kind of you! I will apologise to David for misjudging him. But I didn't keep the general for that reason. You may not know, but he—'

‘Rude to Sir Gregory,' Hal interrupted. ‘Told me. Impolite, but only child. Probably be rude myself, try to take away something of my father's.'

‘Believe me, I understand the reason for his attachment to the toy! Still, though I cannot thank you enough for repairing it, it does not seem proper that I reward his bad behaviour by allowing him to play with the general until he has made amends.'

Made amends for a social transgression—when all the boy was struggling to do was keep the memory of his father from fading into the featureless blur that was all Hal had left of his own.

Sudden strong emotion overtaking him, Hal felt the words rise in his throat, almost tumbling out in their urgency. ‘Keep others, then, but let him have general. He's a boy, not pattern-card to sit in Mama's drawing room. Let him be boy! Needs tutor, dog, pony. Needs to go outside, not be banished upstairs. Needs mother to leave her room—' Hal's voice rose as gestured around the studio ‘—and pay attention to him!'

Hal halted, perspiring and red-faced after having delivered perhaps the longest speech of his life. In the sudden silence, Elizabeth Lowery stared at him, her lips open in an
O
of surprise.

How had he let himself get so carried away? Hal wondered, now aghast. He'd intended only to make sure Elizabeth Lowery didn't, in her grief, neglect her son. He shouldn't have let his simmering resentment over his own mother's treatment propel him into lecturing her about David's upbringing, a subject about which he really knew very little.

In any event, he should never have spoken thus to a lady. After that clumsily delivered tirade, she'd probably think him as blockish as his mother did and have Sands eject him from the house. Miserably he waited for her to skewer him for his effrontery and dismiss him.

It took Elizabeth a moment to recover from the shock of Mr Waterman's unexpected verbal attack. How dare he! No one had ever raised his voice to her like that! But even as she began to formulate a frigidly polite response, she saw Mr Waterman mop his brow, his expression of distress suggesting he'd been as surprised by his outburst as she was. Before she spoke, he made her a deep bow.

‘So sorry! Shouldn't have ripped up at you,' he said, looking almost as shame-faced as David had after she'd scolded him for his rudeness to Sir Gregory. ‘Not my place. Lost my father about the same age, though. Remember what it's like. Leave now, if you prefer.'

As taken aback as she'd been, there could be no mistaking Mr Waterman's genuine regard for her son. He'd sought him out, listened attentively to his concerns, even gone out of his way to fix the toy David prized so dearly. Struggling as she was to try to help her son deal with the sudden disappearance from his life of the father who'd been his boon companion, how she could she resent or reprove him for speaking out on David's behalf?

‘On the contrary, please stay. I admit your…rather forcefully expressed opinion gave me pause for a moment, but I see in it a kindness towards David that I very much appreciate. I grew up surrounded by sisters, my only brother scarcely much older than David when I married, so I know very little about a boy's needs. I should be very grateful for your advice.'

For a moment Mr Waterman simply stared at her. ‘Not angry?'

She shook her head. ‘No, I'm not angry. Only deeply touched by the attention you've given David.'

‘Want…my advice?'

His tone sounded absurdly questioning for a man as competent and commanding as Mr Waterman. Then she recalled Sir Gregory's—and apparently his mother's—disparaging descriptions. Perhaps, being so halting of speech, he didn't often have his opinion solicited.

‘Yes, though I hesitate to impose upon you more than I already have. But you seem to understand David so well already, perceiving how much he valued the general and then being clever enough to repair him. You mentioned that he ought to have a tutor and a pony. He seems so young! Are you sure he is ready for that?'

Waterman nodded. ‘Boys his age sent to Eton. Rode first pony when I was five. Look into one for you?'

‘That wouldn't be too much trouble?' When Mr Waterman shook his head, she continued, ‘Then, yes, please do. Although…are you certain I can afford it? What have you discovered about the estate?'

The tentativeness seemed to fall from him in an instant. ‘Called on Scarbridge. As expected, had no files. Or none that remembered. Sure husband had will. Part of settlements when married, Nicky would have made sure. Probably among papers in office. Allow me to look?'

‘Of course. What of Mr Smith and the debts?'

‘Blackmen is moneylender. Obtained total of what owed. Substantial. Also checked with bank. Lowery Manor let to tenants. Mortgage on unentailed part.'

Fear coiled in Elizabeth's throat. ‘That Smith fellow said Mr Blackmen wanted the loan repaid immediately. Is there enough in Everitt's account at the bank to do so? Must the mortgage be repaid as well? Oh, I wish I knew more about what to do!'