Gallant Waif by Anne Gracie (best ereader manga .TXT) 📕

I said, my memory came back to me when Henri was interrogating English prisoners—perhaps it was the sound of English being spoken that caused it to return. It took me a day or two to find out what happened and make my plans to escape. Then I stole a horse and rode into Allied territory. It was not difficult to pass from behind the French fines—a woman is not so suspect as a man.” She flushed. “But you see why I cannot possibly enter society, or marry.”

“I see nothing of the sort,” said Lady Cahill. “There is no reason for anyone to know of this—”

“It is a matter of public record,” said Kate regretfully. “I returned to the English forces almost six weeks after my father’s death. Naturally I was interviewed, in case I was a spy. Some of the officers who interviewed me didn’t believe I’d lost my memory. Others were only interested in what I could tell them about the French. It was supposed to be kept secret, but when I reached Lisbon everybody there knew the worst,” she concluded bitterly.

There was a long silence. “It is not mere wilfulness or false pride preventing me from seeking a husband, you know,” Kate added. “Ever since I was a little girl I’ve dreamt of my wedding day, waited for the man whom I could love for ever. . .and played with other people’s children, preparing myself for the day when I had children of my own.” She smoothed twisted fabric with unknowing hands.

“I have put this dream away. . .but not of my own volition.”

Lady Cahill opened her mouth to argue, but Kate continued, “In Lisbon I received a taste of what would face me if I ever again tried to enter society. Ma’am, I was shunned, reviled. . . even spat on—by English ladies, some of whom I’d regarded as friends…” Her throat swelled and tightened, remembering whispers and sidelong glances, prurient curiosity and outright hostility.

“And men whom I thought I knew, whom I thought were decent Christian gentlemen, tried to touch me, made obscene suggestions.” The Frenchman’s whore—she was fair game.

“Even Harry. . .my betrothed…” Kate shuddered. Harry’s eyes had run over her body in a way they never had before. The realisation had entered Kate’s heart like a blade of ice. He was no different from the rest.

“It was unspeakably vile. . .and I could not bear to face it again.” She looked wearily at Lady Cahill. “That is why I cannot accept your very kind offer, why I cannot seek a husband or go about in society. I could not bear to meet someone who knows what happened.”

She tried to smile. “It is not so very bad, you know. I cannot miss what I’ve never had. I’ve not had the sort of upbringing that other girls have. And I’m young and healthy and—” she wiped her eyes ”—generally not such a dreadful watering pot. If I could only find a position as a children’s nurse or companion… You could help me with that, could you not?”

Lady Cahill was deeply moved. Kate had been badly wounded, she could see that. There was no point in pushing her to agree to any plans at present. She was still too vulnerable to risk her heart and her hopes again—she needed time to recover. Lady Cahill would help Kate, but not to a position as a children’s nurse. No, if an old woman had any say in the matter, Maria Delacombe’s child would have her dream. She reached out and took Kate’s hand in a tight grasp.

“Of course I will help you, child. Try to put the whole horrid business behind you. You found yourself in a difficult situation, but you conducted yourself with honour as a true Christian lady. I am sure that both your father and your mother would have been very proud of you. I know I am.”

Tears spilled from Kate’s eyes. Kindness, she suddenly found, was so much harder to withstand than cruelty. The old woman gathered the girl into her arms and held her tightly for a moment or two.

“Lady Cahill, you see—”

“I see nothing at all at the moment,” Lady Cahill interrupted, wiping her eyes. “This dratted face paint has run and I refuse to do or say another word until it is repaired. Fetch my maid to me, and in the meantime go and wash your face and comb your hair. Return to me in twenty minutes.”

Kate stared at her, dumbfounded. Suddenly laughter began to well up inside her and she sat back and laughed until the tears came again.

Sympathy and warm, wicked humour gleamed back at her from the admittedly smudged face of the old woman. “That’s right, my girl. A good cry and a good laugh. That’s what the doctor ordered. Now,” she continued briskly, “fetch Smithers to me and go and wash your face. You look a sight!”

Later that afternoon Kate helped the old lady climb into her travelling chaise, and stood in the driveway, waving her off. Lady Cahill had promised to “do what I can to help Maria’s gel’, and Kate felt sure that she would find her a position as a children’s nurse in some quiet, pleasant household.

In return, Kate’s job was relatively simple—she had to put Mr Jack Carstairs’s house in order. That was well within her capabilities. She might not enjoy housework very much, but there was no doubt that Sevenoakes was badly in need of attention, and there would be real satisfaction gained from restoring a ramshackle house to a graceful residence. And her old nurse, Martha, was to come and live here. That would be wonderful, thought Kate. Martha was a dear and would keep Kate from feeling too lonely. Martha had also known and loved Jemmy and Ben.

Moreover, Kate thought, mentally ticking off her advantages, she was surrounded by lovely countryside and could go for long rambles whenever she wanted to. In fact, she could do whatever she wanted, whenever she