Song Of The Nightingale (DeWinter's Song 1) (2 page)

Raile glanced upward, trying to cool his temper. “Everyone in London knows Hugh was responsible for the duel. I can’t believe your father wouldn’t have heard the rumors. Worst of all, I can’t imagine why he would think so little of my character.”

“He hears only what Lavinia wants him to hear. You
know how she has always set out to charm him,” John
responded bitterly, “and Father is easily duped by her.”

“I would have thought Hugh would come forward with the truth.”

John’s face became stony. “Damn it, Raile, when will
you understand that Hugh will do whatever Lavinia says?”

Raile was disbelieving. “But if Hugh had been there today, he would have admitted his guilt. My brother would never have allowed me to take the blame.”

“I don’t think so, Raile. Remember the time when
that girl in Ravenworth village gave birth to a bastard
child? It was Hugh’s baby, but he told everyone that you had fathered the child. You took the blame for
him then, just as you did today. When will you admit
Hugh is not worthy of your loyalty?”

“Not until he proves it to me himself, John.”

“Hugh’s a bastard, Raile. He always has been, he always will be.”

“I’m sure he knows nothing of Lavinia’s lies.” Raile
drew in a deep breath, wanting to believe in his brother. “No matter, I’m off to find myself a regiment.”

“You don’t mean that you are taking my father at his word? You aren’t leaving England?”

“I have been thinking for some time about acquiring
a commission in the army. This incident merely helped me decide.”

John poked his hands in his pockets. “I know you well enough to realize if you have made up your mind,
nothing I say will deter you. I only wish—“

“It’s over, John. Let it go. Just take care of yourself
and my uncle, for I cannot find it within myself to wish
him ill. And if either of you needs anything, just contact
my solicitor, and he will see that you get it.”

John looked ashamed. “I’m glad it came out at last
that you are paying the expenses of this family.”

“I had hoped my uncle would never have to know. How did he find out?”

“I was in the solicitor’s office one afternoon last sum
mer, and the man warned me that my father needed to
curtail his spending. After much coaxing, he admitted that it was you who was taking care of the family’s expenses, and had been for years. I told my father. I thought he should know what you have done for us.”
John shook his head. “We owe you so much and have
offered you so little.”

Raile was impatient to leave. “You owe me nothing.
It is I who owe you and your father, John. He gave me a home for many years.”

“Why didn’t you tell my father the truth about Hugh?”

Raile stared for a moment at the clear sky before
looking into John’s earnest blue eyes. “Why didn’t you
tell him, John?”

Without another word, Raile turned and walked away.

2

Six Months Later


Another House On Percy Street

Thirteen-year-old Kassidy Maragon dashed down the steps of her aunt’s fashionable town house,
with the impression of her brother’s slap still visible on
her cheek. She dodged several carriages and ran quickly
to the park across the street.

Henry had not been in the least understanding with his daughter, Trudy, when she discovered her favorite
doll had been broken by a careless playmate. The child
sobbed brokenheartedly, while her father admonished
her for not taking care of her possessions and restricted
her from playing for one month.

Kassidy was not sorry that she had comforted the
crying child against Henry’s command. She had called
her brother an unfeeling monster, and he had slapped her.

Kassidy drew in a deep breath and brushed the tears from her eyes. After tomorrow she would never again have to be under Henry’s harsh domination. Her parents had been in India for one long year, and at last they were coming home.

Henry had grudgingly complied with their parents’ request that he bring his sisters to London to meet
them. This was Kassidy’s first time in London, and she
refused to allow her brother to spoil it for her. She for
got all about him when she saw a colorfully dressed
vendor sing out his song as he hawked his wares.

Hearing her name called, Kassidy glanced across the
street to find her older sister, Abigail, waving to her.
She motioned for Abigail to join her in the park.

They were as different as sisters could be. Abigail had blond hair and beautiful features. Her manners
were refined, and her actions were always correct. Kas
sidy had never liked her own blond hair, and she con
sidered herself anything but a lady.

The three years that divided the sisters had never
seemed to matter; they were the best of friends. Kassidy
attributed their closeness to Abigail’s loving nature. She
saw her sister as sweet and patient, while she was hot-
tempered, and had very little time for fools.

“Are you hurt, dearest?” Abigail asked with a worried frown on her pretty face.

“No, he couldn’t hurt me. I’m too happy today.”

“Henry
is
the monster you called him, and I shall tell
Mother and Father how he has mistreated you.” Abigail
drew Kassidy’s head against her shoulder. “I’ll never
allow him to strike you again. He’s only fortunate Aunt Mary didn’t witness the incident. She would have given
him a proper dressing-down.”

“Aunt Mary probably would have struck him back,
and you know it.”

Both girls giggled.

“Look,” Kassidy said, already forgetting her brother’s
harshness with her, “there’s a squirrel in that tree.”

“We have to get back, Kassidy,” Abigail reminded her. “You know Aunt Mary is expecting guests for tea.”

“What do I care about that? It’s just Henry’s old mother-in-law and her darling daughters, who are so full of their own worth, I can hardly bear to be in the same room with them.”

“That may be so, but we wouldn’t want to disappoint
Aunt Mary. She’s gone to a great deal of trouble on Henry’s behalf.”

“Look.” Kassidy pointed above them. “The squirrel’s
gone into that hole in the tree. Do you suppose it lives there all year ‘round?”

Abigail, at sixteen, fancied herself above such childish matters. “I’m sure I don’t know. I have no interest in the habits of a rodent.”

“I wonder what a squirrel would find to eat in London?”

Abigail smiled at Kassidy’s great enthusiasm for life. “I’m sure Uncle George could tell you.”

“Do you suppose Mother and Father will take us to
Drury Lane?” Kassidy asked, reaching above her head
and snapping off a small branch. “I want to see the flower girls selling lavender in the streets and buy lemonade from a street vendor.”

“I was hoping to see the palace. Uncle George has
already promised I can visit Parliament,” Abigail said,
placing a dainty foot on the walkway. “I want so desperately to sail down the Thames River on a covered boat.”

“I would like to go to Ascot and see the fine horses
that race there,” Kassidy said thoughtfully. “Do you suppose Father and Mother will want to return to the country immediately?”

“It doesn’t really matter what we do as long as we’re
together,” Abigail admitted. “I have missed them so dreadfully.”

“And just think, Abigail, Henry won’t ever be able to
tell us what to do again. A year is a long time to live by his stern dictates.”

Abigail nodded in agreement. “Henry cannot be a happy man. He never smiles and resents it when others do. I feel such pity for our nieces. Why do you suppose he’s the way he is?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t take after Mother or Father,” Kassidy said reflectively. Then she smiled impishly. “Perhaps the Gypsies left him.”

“I suppose we should feel pity for him,” Abigail said seriously. “After all, Patricia doesn’t treat him very well.”

“Sometimes you’re just too good, Abigail,” Kassidy said scornfully. “I don’t care about Henry or his wife. I want to have fun, and they’re no fun at all. Henry thinks London was built by the devil for the devil. He deserves to be miserable.”

Kassidy and Abigail exchanged glances. “But we don’t!” they said in unison, then shared a laugh at their brother’s expense.

“We had best get back to the house, Kassidy.” Abigail glanced up at the sun. “You’ll ruin your complexion if you stay out much longer.”

“You go on. I want to stay for a while. I promise to return before tea.”

Abigail looked doubtful for a moment, thinking it wouldn’t be proper to leave Kassidy alone in the park. But when she saw several nannies with their charges nearby, she relented. “Don’t soil your new gown. You’ll want to look your best when we meet Mother and Father.”

Kassidy watched Abigail cross the street and disappear inside the house. She dropped down on a marble bench and intently studied a goldfish that darted in and out among the lily pads. Of course, she loved the country most of all, but in London every day was like a new adventure.

She was so lost in thought that she didn’t see the two boys who came up behind her until one of them stepped between her and the pond.

“What we got here, Elmer? Do you think this’s one of the fancy girls from across the street? Mayhaps she’s too fancy for the likes of us.”

Kassidy blinked her eyes and stared at the bold boys who carried brooms and brushes on a harness across their shoulders. Their clothing was covered with soot and their faces were blackened. It was obvious that they were chimney sweeps.

She turned her back on them. They had no right to be so familiar with her.

“See how she’s too grand to speak to the likes of us,” one of them taunted.

“I’ll not talk to you. Be gone,” she said airily.

“Come on, Hank,” the second boy said. “Why don’t you leave her be. She ain’t done nothing to you.”

The one called Hank smirked. “I wonder if she’d be so haughty if I landed her in that fish pond?”

Kassidy quickly turned to face the boy, her green eyes sparkling and fearless. “You wouldn’t dare!”

Hank moved forward while his companion hung back. He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the pond. “We’ll just see, miss—we’ll just see.”

Kassidy kicked at him and connected with his knee. She then wrenched her arm free and at the same time drove her fist into the boy’s midsection. He howled in pain while his companion looked on gleefully.

“You got what you deserves. Now leave her be. Pa will be expecting us.” Without another word, Elmer walked away.

When Hank caught his breath, he lunged at Kassidy with anger boiling in his eyes. But poor Hank never reached her because he was jerked off his feet and dangled in the air by an officer in His Majesty’s army, who wore the insignia of a colonel.

“Well there, young lad, it appears you have nothing better to do than torment helpless little girls. Surely it would be no great feat for you to push her in the pond.”

The officer glanced at Kassidy. “And she’s such a small girl. You are at least twice her size.”

Hank tried to wriggle free. “She’s anything but helpless. She’s a demon!”

Raile looked at the little girl who faced her tormentor defiantly, her fists doubled, her eyes flashing like green fire. “I see what you mean.” Raile released the boy. “If you want to fight, join the army and fight the French.”

The boy looked shamefaced. “I’m sorry, sir.” He looked quickly at Kassidy. “And I’m sorry to you, too, miss.” He lost no time in picking up his brooms and scampering away.

“Did he hurt you?”

Kassidy looked up at her rescuer. He was the handsomest man she had ever seen. If only Abigail had remained a little longer, she would have been there to meet him. He would surely have been smitten by her beauty and fallen in love.

“I’m not hurt a bit, thank you, sir.”

He smiled as he knelt before her. “Perhaps you aren’t hurt, but you soiled your pretty white gown.”

She looked at the dark smudges on the sleeve and shook her head in dismay. “Aunt Mary bought this gown and I wasn’t supposed to get it dirty. I was to wear it again tomorrow to meet my mother and father.”

He removed a handkerchief from his pocket, dipped it in the fishpond, and dabbed at her sleeve. “Perhaps I can help.” He gently rubbed the smudge while Kassidy watched hopefully.

She was overcome with relief when the stain disappeared. She wanted to throw her arms around her savior, but of course she dared not. Surely he was the most compassionate man she had ever met.

“There,” Raile DeWinter said, standing to his full height. “If you don’t tell her, Aunt Mary will never know about your trouble.”

He handed her his handkerchief. “There is a black smudge on your forehead, but I’ll let you attend to that.”

She rubbed at the spot until he nodded in approval. When she would have given him back his handkerchief, he closed his hand around hers. “Keep it as a token.” He laughed. “And who knows when you may need it again.”

“Thank you.” She watched the wind ripple through his dark hair. “I have to go now,” she said, backing toward the walkway. “But I won’t forget your kindness.”

“Yes, hurry along.”

She took several steps and turned back to him. “Will I ever see you again?”

His eyes suddenly darkened with sadness. “I’m afraid not. You see, I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Will you be fighting against the French?”

“Yes.”

“I will think of you and know that I am safe because you stand between Napoleon and me,” she said with feeling.

He smiled at her exaggeration. This green-eyed minx was a real charmer. “I will do my best to keep you safe.”

“I will think of you as my champion,” she said sincerely.

He bowed formally to her, trying to keep a serious expression on his face. “I am honored to be your champion. I assure you I shall not shirk in my duty toward you. Now I must bid you good day.”

Kassidy made her way quickly across the street. When she turned back, he was gone.

Glancing down at the handkerchief, she saw it had an initial embroidered in black. She traced the bold outline of the letter R, wishing she had asked him his name.

Kassidy tucked her treasure into her pocket and raced up the steps.

Wait until she told Abigail about the handsome officer who had rescued her from a spill in the pond. Wouldn’t she be jealous?

Kassidy sat beside her Aunt Mary at dinner, as far away from Henry as was possible. In defiance of Henry’s wishes, Aunt Mary had insisted that Kassidy dine with the adults rather than the children.

Kassidy dipped her spoon in the lemon ice and raised it to her mouth, while returning her Uncle George’s smile. She adored him. Although her uncle wasn’t titled, he sat in the House Of Commons and was a most important and distinguished presence in Parliament, she had been told. But to her he was just Uncle George, and she had always found him to be warm and humorous.

She watched the affectionate glance her uncle and aunt exchanged. Aunt Mary was her mother’s sister. She had always insisted that Kassidy was like her, but Kassidy doubted she would ever grow into the beauty her aunt was. Both of them did have blond hair, though, and they always had an understanding between them.

Dipping once more into her lemon ice, Kassidy stole a glance at her brother, Henry, and his wife, Patricia. Henry was in his thirties, tall and lean, and although he resembled their father, he was as disagreeable as their father was amiable.

“I don’t approve of children eating with the grown-ups,” Henry said pompously, his eyes hard when he looked at Kassidy. “It spoils them and makes them unmanageable.”