AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter Four
Two weeks later, the day of the charity event at St. Anne’s Orphanage finally arrived. Patricia put her lace handkerchief to her nose as she hesitantly stepped out of the carriage, gazing around. There was a strong smell in the air, a mixture of horse manure, unwashed bodies, and many other scents she could not even identify.
She kept gazing, almost fearfully. She had never been to an area as rough as this. The Almonry was notorious to her but by reputation only. She knew she had lived a sheltered life. That nothing could have prepared her for the squalor that was spread around her now.
She took a deep breath, quickly forging ahead into the orphanage.
A plainly dressed woman with a severely wrinkled face led her past dingy rooms filled with children of varying ages. They were all dressed in faded, ill-fitting clothes. They stared at her with wide, vacant eyes. She smiled at them hesitantly, but they did not respond. Quickly, she turned her face away, her heart twisting with pity. This was going to be more difficult than she had anticipated.
She was led into a large common room, filled with long tables. On one there was spread an array of food, sandwiches, small cakes and pies, as well as many teacups. Eleanor and some other ladies and gentlemen were already in attendance, talking quietly in a corner. Patricia took a deep breath, approaching the group.
“Patricia,” smiled Eleanor, “how very good it is to see you, my dear.”
Patricia kissed her friend upon the cheek. Eleanor looked very well indeed; her face filled with a quiet excitement. Her eyes were glowing with satisfaction. Patricia knew how hard she had worked for this event.
She looked at the gentlemen, assessing them carefully. There had been five names she had taken from the list of invitees. Five names of eligible wealthy gentlemen, that could be targeted. And it looked like one of them was already here. He was instantly recognisable by the large, jagged scar across his right cheek.
It was Lord Jackson Fisher. The Duke of Merriweather, whose father had recently passed away, conferring the revered title onto him, as well as all the wealth of the duchy.
She studied him covertly. She had heard all about his scarred face, the result of an injury sustained at war. Many whispered about it, saying that it was the reason he hardly ever attended society events and hid himself away at his country estate.
The scar was truly shocking. Almost angrily red and jagged with raised flesh. It was a pity, of course, because otherwise he might have been a handsome man. He was tall and broad shouldered, with jet black hair curling around the nape of his neck. A chiselled face with a strong jawline. His eyes were deep green and intelligent but rather brooding.
Yes, the scar was a shame, she thought. But it served her purposes well. Because she knew that not many young ladies would want him because of it, despite his exalted title and wealth. The new Duke of Merriweather was a perfect target for her.
Eleanor was making the introductions now. Patricia took a deep breath as she was introduced to him, curtseying deeply. She must make good on every opportunity that presented itself, after all.
“Your Grace,” she said, smiling prettily at him. “It issuchan honour to finally meet you.” She tilted her chin, meeting his eye. “I have heard so much about you. May I offer my condolences on the passing of your father. It must be a terrible time indeed for you.”
He looked surprised. Cautiously, he smiled at her, inclining his head slightly. “Thank you, my Lady. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
He stared at her quite openly. She smiled again, her cheeks dimpling, in a flirtatious way. She could tell by the warm look in his eyes that he was admiring her. She had dressed very carefully for this event, not wanting to appear ostentatious but still elegant. A pale blue gown, which she knew accentuated her lithe figure and contrasted nicely with her golden hair.
Her maid had spent a good amount of time subtly rouging her cheeks and lips, as well as darkening her eyebrows and lashes with an ash pencil. Before she had left the house, Margaret had commented that she looked very lovely and her mother had said she was as pretty as a picture.
She took a deep breath, letting him admire her. She had put in a great deal of effort to look enticing, after all. Thankfully, it appeared to be reaping some benefit.
But at that moment, another lady entered the room, joining the group. A steady stream of guests followed her. The morning tea was about to commence.
He turned away, chatting to another gentleman. She studied his back thoughtfully for a moment. It was a good start – she knew he admired her, and she found if she looked him in the eye, she quite forgot about that scar on his cheek. But he was just one of five she had earmarked. She would wait to see if there was another opportunity to engage him, and if not, she would simply move onto the next.
Her heart clenched with sorrow, but she firmly ignored it. This was for Margaret’s sake, as well as her own. She must do her duty.
* * *
Her chance came later in the morning, after the guests had eaten their fill of the food and toured the orphanage. She saw him standing out in the garden by himself. He looked distracted, as if his mind was very far away.
She took a deep breath, walking out of the common room towards him.
“It is rather a beautiful garden, is it not?” she said, as she approached him. “I must declare that I am surprised by it. I thought that there would not be a patch of dirt for the children to play in.”
He jumped slightly. She had obviously disturbed him; he had not sensed her approaching him at all. His rumination had been deep.
“Yes, my Lady,” he said, taking a deep breath. “One might have believed so. But I think that a benefactor paid for this garden to be made for the orphans.”
She nodded, gazing around. It was a small space, to be sure, but very pretty. There was a verdant green lawn and well-kept flower beds to the sides, leading to a high brick wall. A climbing rose espaliered along it, in full bloom. In one corner was a large wooden box containing leather balls and hoops.
“It is such a good cause, is it not?” she said, turning back to him, wreathed in smiles. “My heart simply breaks for the poor children. I am so very glad Lady Reynolds decided to host this event and asked me to help.”
