The Homeless Heiress

She had shrunk closer to the side of the man she had felt her protector, her fear very real until they were well away from him. Should she confess the whole truth to Captain Hernshaw, throw herself on his mercy and trust in him to help her? He was a stranger to her! If he knew the truth, he might try to take advantage. It was difficult to know who she could trust…if indeed she could trust anyone.

Georgie shivered. They were approaching a row of terraced houses in an elegant square. At least it was a respectable address, a place where she might be able to hide for a few days while she recovered her strength and took stock of her situation. She stayed close to her protector as he rapped at the door, which was opened by a gentleman of advanced years dressed in discreet black.

‘Ah, there you are, sir.’ The faded blue eyes flicked to Georgie’s face, but he gave no sign of curiosity. ‘You are early this evening, Captain Hernshaw.’

‘Yes, Jensen,’ Richard replied with a faint smile. ‘As you say I am early, though I may go out again later. Has Mrs Jensen retired yet?’

‘No, sir. She is in her sitting room. Shall I tell her that you require her services?’

‘She may attend me in the front parlour at her convenience. I wish to place this young lad under her care.’

‘Young lad in her care?’ For a moment Jensen’s face froze, but in seconds he had recovered. ‘Yes, of course, sir. I shall tell Mrs Jensen immediately. Is there anything else you require, sir?’

‘Well done, Jensen,’ Richard said and Georgie saw a gleam of appreciation in his eyes. ‘Nothing throws you, does it? No, I require nothing further. It is my intention to go out again once I have this small matter in hand.’

‘Just as you say, sir.’

The manservant went off. Georgie followed her protector into a parlour of medium proportions. It was furnished with heavy mahogany pieces that gave it a stately air, rather ponderous and definitely the home of a man who lived alone. There were cabinets filled with objects that looked to be of a scientific nature made of brass or steel, and two large globes on stands were placed one at either side of the window. A desk stood beneath the window, so that the light fell on it, and was cluttered with what looked like old pieces of bone to Georgie.

‘Are you a scientist?’ she asked, looking at her rescuer curiously.

‘No, but my uncle was,’ Richard replied. ‘He left this house to me and I have done nothing with it, as you see. Uncle Frederick never married. He left me his estate because I was his favourite and—’ He broke off, a look of pain in his eyes. ‘I shared some of his interests at one time, but I have been away for some years.’

‘Oh…’ Georgie picked up one of the pieces of what she now saw were fossils. ‘What is this?’

‘A part of the thigh bone of a dinosaur,’ Richard replied. ‘My uncle studied fossils of all kinds. I have no particular interest in bones myself, but I hardly ever use this house, except when I stay in town. I prefer the country and of course I have been away.’ He frowned at her. Here in the brighter lights of his house, he saw that she looked older than he’d first imagined, not truly a child. ‘You can’t be interested in any of this. Will you not tell me who you really are and why you ran away?’

‘I…’ Georgie began. She was still uncertain whether to trust him with the whole story and was relieved when someone knocked at the door. She saw his quick frown, but he did not hesitate.

‘Come in, Mrs Jensen.’

An elderly woman entered. She was plump, white-haired and looked approachable, though a little surprised and anxious. It was obvious that she did not know what to make out of the tale her husband had clearly been telling her.

‘There was something I can do for you, sir?’

‘Yes, Mrs Jensen,’ Richard replied. ‘I want you to help this young lad. He is in some trouble and I have rescued him and brought him here for his safety. He has eaten, but needs to bathe and requires more suitable clothes and a bed of his own to sleep in. Do you think you can help me out please, Dora?’

‘Yes, of course, sir.’ Dora Jensen gave him a look of such adoration that Georgie knew at once that the woman had known Captain Hernshaw many years and trusted him completely. ‘The poor little mite. I’ll take him away now, shall I, sir?’

‘Yes, if you please.’ He turned to Georgie. ‘Dora was my uncle’s housekeeper for many years, and we have known each other since I was in short coat s. She will look after you, Georgie. I have to go out again on business, but I shall see you in the morning. We shall talk further then.’

‘Yes…thank you,’ Georgie said, giving him an uncertain smile. ‘You have been…kind.’

He nodded to her, but made no further comment. Georgie saw the housekeeper was looking at her expectantly and she went to her dutifully, following her from the room and up the stairs.

‘We always keep a couple of rooms ready in case the captain decides to invite a guest to stay, though he doesn’t trouble us much,’ Mrs Jensen told her as she looked back, making certain Georgie was just behind her. ‘I often say to Jensen that things hardly changed when the old gentleman died.’

‘Was that Mr Frederick Hernshaw?’

‘Sir Frederick,’ Mrs Jensen corrected. ‘He was a gentleman of learning, quiet and scholarly. He sometimes had a few of the dons to dinner—university men like himself—but never ladies. There has not been a lady in this house for as long as I can remember…’ A speculative expression came to her eyes. ‘That brings me to you, young sir—if it isn’t rude of me to ask. Who are you and how did you come to meet the captain?’

Georgie took a deep breath, then smiled. ‘It is a long story, Mrs Jenkins. Captain Hernshaw doesn’t know it all yet, but if you promise to keep it to yourself I shall tell you a part of my secret.’ She swept off her disreputable cap, letting her long dark hair cascade over her shoulders. Her melting brown eyes met the housekeeper’s astonished look bravely. ‘I shall not deceive you, Mrs Jensen. I am not as I presently appear,’ she said, and then tucked her hair back under her cap.

‘Well, bless my soul,’ Dora Jensen said. ‘You’re a lady, miss! I thought there was something odd as soon as I laid eyes on you. You looked like a girl, but in your present dress it seemed unlikely—if you don’t mind my being blunt. It isn’t quite proper for a young lady to be in an unmarried gentleman’s house.’

‘No, you are quite right,’ Georgie said. ‘But when I tell you that I was near to starving when he found me, you may find it in your heart to look kindly on me.’

‘Never fear that I shan’t,’ Mrs Jensen said in a gentle tone. ‘I know a lady when I see one and something tells me you are in terrible trouble.’

‘Yes, I am,’ Georgie replied and her bottom lip trembled. ‘I am in such a mess—and I’m frightened, that’s why I came here to the house of a stranger. He gave me food and promised to help me, but he doesn’t yet know the real story, though he does know I am a girl.’

‘You never told him lies, miss!’

‘Yes, well, I couldn’t tell him the truth, not at first,’ Georgie said, warming to her new friend. ‘But I am in terrible danger. And I can’t tell you any more, because…well, I just can’t!’

‘Well, I never,’ Dora said and shook her head. ‘That is a shocking thing, miss—if you are telling me the truth?’

Georgie crossed her fingers behind her back. It was nearer to the truth than she had confessed to Captain Hernshaw, but still not the whole story. But she was afraid that if he knew the real story her protector might refuse to believe her and pack her off back to her family—and that was something she was determined to fight at all costs.

‘I wouldn’t lie to you, Mrs Jensen. I just can’t tell anyone the whole story.’

‘I hope you wouldn’t,’ the housekeeper said, her eyes going over her. ‘I am not sure what we ought to do with you, miss, and that is the truth. There are no young girls in this household and my clothes would fall off you.’

‘Oh, I don’t want to dress like a girl,’ Georgie said hastily. ‘I couldn’t stay here if people knew it was me—and I might be recognised if I went out in a girl’s clothing. I have been into fashionable society, you see. I should have no reputation left if people knew I was here in this house. Can’t you find me something suitable to wear—a youth’s clothes, perhaps?’

‘Well, I don’t know, miss.’ Dora looked doubtful. ‘This is a house of menservants for the most part, because it was always a bachelor’s home; there are no boys—but the captain might have something.’

‘You could always wash my things.’ Georgie looked down at herself doubtfully.

‘That I will not,’ Dora said decisively. ‘Those things are for the rag bag if I have my way. You can wear one of the master’s bathrobes. I’ll ask Henderson to find you something—he’s the captain’s valet and he served him when they were both in the army.’

‘Oh…’ Georgie hesitated. ‘Yes, I see…well, it will have to do for the moment. But you do see it is better if people think I’m a boy, don’t you?’

‘Yes, miss,’ Dora said, though she was still doubtful. ‘Well, here’s your room, miss—or perhaps I should call you master?’

‘Call me Georgie. It is my name and it could be for a boy or a girl, couldn’t it?’

‘You’re a rare one,’ Dora said and shook her head. ‘I don’t know what to make of you, and that is the truth, but the master put you in my care, and I’ll do the best I can by you. Now, this is your room, and I’ll send Henderson up with the bathtub. I’ll bring the hot water myself. Make yourself comfortable, Master Georgie, and I’ll be back soon.’

Georgie thanked her and went inside the room. It was a bedchamber of handsome proportions, though once again it was furnished in heavy dull furniture, the curtains and bedclothes in sombre shades. Very masculine and not at all what she had been used to all her life, but much better than the streets.

She sat down on a stool near the window and looked out as the door closed behind Mrs Jensen. At least she was safe here for the time being. No one would think of looking for her in this house. It had given her a shock to see him when she left the inn with Captain Hernshaw and she had been glad of her new friend’s protection. She closed her eyes for a moment, because she was feeling sick and frightened. To be so near to that man! It had made her feel very nervous, though it was unlikely he would have recognised her dressed in her filthy clothes. Yet the fear that he would had been very strong, because she would rather die than be taken back to her home and forced into a life that she knew would be unbearable.

She had run from her aunt and uncle, and they were in collusion with another person to rob her of what was rightfully hers. Not by murdering her, but by marrying her to a man she hated.

She would never marry him! Never, never, never! She would much rather be dead than his wife. For a moment the tears were very close, but she held them back. The worst of her ordeal was over now. She was no longer hungry or cold and could put the memory of her time on the streets behind her. She must think hard about what she was going to do next, because her situation was still precarious.

Her head came up as she heard a knock on the door and she called out that whoever it was might enter. A man of about three and thirty came in carrying a large metal tub, which he placed down in front of the fireplace. He then knelt down, striking a tinder and putting the flame to the dry kindling, which caught with the help of a little work with the bellows.

Georgie wandered over to watch him. He glanced up at her and she saw the fearful scar on his cheek. Instead of flinching, she felt an immediate sympathy for him and smiled, hoping that he would see his disfigurement did not cause her revulsion.

‘Thank you, that is very kind of you, sir.’

‘Call me Henderson,’ he told her, his dark eyes narrowed. ‘I’m the captain’s valet now. I served with him in the army. He saved my life when I was wounded, and he gave me a job. Mrs Jensen tells me you’re here because he rescued you too.’

‘Yes…’ Georgie hesitated because she wasn’t sure what else the housekeeper had told him. ‘I need something to wear, Henderson. Has the captain got anything suitable?’

‘His things will be too big for you, but I’ll find you something,’ he promised. ‘The captain’s things will do for tonight, young master, though you couldn’t go out in them.’

‘Thank you, but I do not wish to go out just yet,’ Georgie said. She glanced over her shoulder as Mrs Jensen entered, carrying a jug of water. She was followed by a younger footman carrying two cans of water, which he poured into the bath, before throwing her a curious glance on the way out.

‘You can leave us now, Henderson,’ Mrs Jensen told the valet, who had the fire going nicely. ‘I’ll help the lad.’

‘I’ll find you something to wear,’ Henderson promised and went off, leaving Georgie alone with the housekeeper.

‘You’d best lock the door until you’ve done,’ Mrs Jensen said with a frown. ‘If we’re to keep your secret for the time being, you don’t want anyone walking in without warning. I’ll bring you a robe—there’s one in the armoire that belonged to one of the guests and was left behind. Make sure you put it on before you open the door, and keep a towel round your head. You don’t want anyone guessing the truth.’

‘No, I don’t,’ Georgie agreed. ‘Thank you so much, Mrs Jensen. I wasn’t sure what you had said to Mr Henderson.’

‘I told him no more than he needed to know,’ Dora replied. ‘But he’s no fool. I doubt it will take him long to work it out for himself.’

Georgie nodded. She locked the door after the housekeeper left and then stripped down to her skin. The sight of steam issuing from the bathtub was enticing, because she hadn’t been able to wash since her flight from her uncle’s house and the water smelled nice, as if it had been perfumed. She sighed with pleasure as she stepped into it and sank down into its warmth; it was just right, not too hot or too cold. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back against a towel and relaxed. It felt so good! She had missed being able to indulge in the luxuries she had known all her life and had hated being dirty. How could people live that way? The answer must be that they had no choice, as she’d had none after her money was stolen.

A single tear trickled down her cheek, because until two years previously she had been the cherished only child of indulgent parents. The tragic carriage accident that had robbed her of both mother and father in one go and cast her into the arms of her mother’s older brother had changed her life completely. At first her aunt and uncle had seemed kind enough, but as she approached her nineteenth birthday, and the fortune that would soon be hers, she had noticed a change in their manner towards her. It was just a look, a conversation that ended abruptly as she entered the room, and then one morning she had overheard them discussing her.

‘He says he will settle the debt if we give him the girl,’ her uncle Henry Mowbray had said as Georgie hovered outside the parlour door. ‘I am deeply involved with him, Agatha. If I refuse he could ruin me—and he will. Believe me, he will!’

‘You should never have been drawn into his schemes,’ Aunt Agatha said harshly. ‘She is nothing to me, of course, but even so…that man gives me the shivers. I do not like this, Henry. Are you sure there is nothing else you can do?’

‘He wants her and the money, but at least he is willing to let the debt go. If I refuse, he might snatch her anyway—and he could ruin me in more ways than one.’

‘But that man…he frightens me, Henry. And she is little more than a child. I do not like the sound of this.’

‘Well, he says it is her or what I owe him, and you know I cannot pay.’

Georgie had run away swiftly as her uncle walked towards the door. She knew that she must not let him realise she had overheard their conversation, because he might decide to lock her in her room until he could force her to marry that man! And she was certain she knew exactly who he meant. She’d seen him looking at her when he visited her uncle and he made her feel as if she wanted to scrub herself all over! She would never marry him, whatever they did to her.

Georgie had left her uncle’s home that very night, determined that she would find a place to hide until she came into her fortune. Once she had it, she could set up home somewhere and pay a respectable companion to live with her. Her plans had been vague to say the least, and she had been acting on instinct when she took the mail coach for London, with some idea of visiting her father’s lawyers at the back of her mind, but when she lost her purse everything had changed. Her priority then had been to stay alive until she could work out what to do for the best, and now she was here in the home of a gentleman she had met for the first time that evening!

She had been fortunate, she knew that instinctively. There were worse perils on the streets of London than she had yet encountered, and, if she played her game skillfully, Captain Hernshaw might help her. She had to decide what to do for the best. There was one person who might help her, though she was reluctant to approach her great-aunt, who had always seemed remote and distant—but it might be the best way in the circumstances. It would perhaps have been best to seek her help in the first instance, but she had acted on impulse, afraid of the consequences if she delayed.

Georgie stayed in the bath until it began to get cold, then got out and dried herself, before putting on the striped soft velvet robe that the housekeeper had put out for her. It was so big that it kept falling off her shoulders and she had to hitch it up with the belt so that she didn’t trip over it all the time, but it felt warm. She went over to the dressing chest, looking at herself in the small mirror that hung from a stand above. Her dark hair was hanging about her shoulders, still slightly damp and curling in wisps as it dried, a complete giveaway of her true sex. She bit her lip, because she knew that she wouldn’t be able to hide the truth for long with her hair this way. She hadn’t wanted to cut it, but now she felt driven to do so.

She opened the top drawer of the military chest that formed part of the furnishings and saw a pair of scissors lying there. Her hand reached for them, hesitated and then grasped them determinedly. If she wanted to escape detection, she would need to be brave. She took a handful of her hair and held it up above her head, positioning the scissors. There was no help for it, her hair must go!

‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you,’ a voice said and Georgie turned to see that Henderson had entered the room via what must be a dressing room. She hadn’t realised that there was another door until this minute. ‘Proper shame to hack off all that lovely hair, if you ask me.’

Georgie got to her feet, staring at him in dismay. ‘I locked the door…’

‘I used the adjoining one, though I waited until I heard you moving about, miss. I did knock, but you didn’t hear me.’

‘I was lost in thought.’ Georgie stared at his face. ‘You knew I was a girl all the time, didn’t you? Did Mrs Jensen tell you?’

‘I sort of guessed it,’ Henderson agreed. ‘I’ve seen delicate young boys, and you might pass for one in poor light, but anyone looking at you now would know for sure. I’ve brought you some clothes—and a cap, so you can hide your hair.’

‘I think it should come off,’ Georgie said. ‘Would you help me, Henderson? I’m not sure I can do the back.’

‘I’ll cut it if you really mean it,’ the valet told her, ‘but I think it is a wicked shame, miss.’

‘You must call me Georgie,’ she said. ‘If anyone discovers the truth…I am in such terrible danger, you see. There is…someone who wants to…harm me.’ It was all she could tell him, as much as she dared to say for now. Tears stood in her eyes as she looked at him.

‘Not if I was near enough to stop him,’ Henderson said and scowled. ‘You should tell the captain, Georgie. He wouldn’t stand for it.’

‘But I can’t impose on him,’ Georgie replied. ‘He has already helped me. I have to get to my great-aunt’s house. She lives in Yorkshire and is the only person I can trust.’

‘You talk to the captain. He will help you get where you need to go,’ Henderson said, looking doubtful. He came towards her, looking at her long hair and the scissors. ‘Are you sure you want to cut this?’

‘Yes—’ Georgie began, but her next words were lost as she heard shouting and then someone knocked frantically at her door. She sprang to open it and Mrs Jensen almost fell into the room. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘It’s the master,’ the housekeeper cried, clearly in a state of shock. ‘He has been badly hurt, miss, and not far from the house. He just staggered in, covered in blood. He’s soaked in it! I never saw the like in my life. He needs you, Henderson!’ Her hands were trembling. ‘Nothing like this ever happened when the old master was alive. I can’t abide the sight of blood. I never could.’

‘Where is he?’ Henderson barked at her. ‘Pull yourself together, woman! I am going to need help.’

Mrs Jensen was shaking and in terrible distress. ‘They carried him to his bedchamber. I can’t help you. I’m sorry, but I just can’t…’

‘I will,’ Georgie said at once. ‘I’m not afraid of a little blood. Go to him, Mr Henderson, and I’ll follow as soon as I am dressed.’

‘Oh, miss,’ the housekeeper said, forgetting discretion in her distress. ‘The poor master. We’ve sent for the doctor, but he looks in a bad way.’

Chapter Two

Henderson went off without another word or a look in her direction. Georgie scooped up the clothes he had left for her and turned her back on the housekeeper as she dressed hastily in breeches and shirt that were far too big for her. She rolled up the sleeves of the shirt and legs of the breeches, tying them round the middle to hold them in with a neckerchief the valet had brought, then scraped her hair up under the cap.

‘Show me where,’ she said and Mrs Jensen stared at her, clearly still in shock. Her wits had gone begging and she looked dazed. ‘Mr Henderson will need help if Captain Hernshaw has been badly hurt.’

‘Yes, come this way,’ Dora said, coming out of her trance. ‘I’ll show you, but don’t ask me to help, because I shall faint at the sight of it. I never could stand blood, and that’s a fact!’

‘We can manage,’ Georgie said, understanding that she felt bad because of the way she had reacted. ‘My aunt was just the same. When my uncle had a shooting accident, I was the one who patched him up until the doctor—’ She stopped abruptly, because she had already said too much. She hadn’t intended to mention her uncle at all!

‘I thought…’ Dora shook her head, because the sight of her master stumbling into the house in such a state had shattered her nerves and she did not know where she was. She had assumed Georgie was alone in the world but now it seemed she had an aunt and uncle. However, it wasn’t her business, and there was no time to think of anything but Captain Hernshaw for the moment. ‘You had better come at once.’

Georgie followed her swiftly along the hall to a set of double doors at the end, which led into the master suite. She went in, leaving Mrs Jensen to hover outside. The first room was a sitting room, which she noticed seemed less dark and dull than the rest of the house, and might have been refurbished recently, but there was no time to stare, for a voice summoned her from what was clearly the bedroom beyond.

‘In here!’

Hurrying to answer Henderson’s call, Georgie found him bending over the figure of his master. There was blood everywhere and he was frantically trying to press down on an open wound in Captain Hernshaw’s shoulder and directing the footman to do the same to another wound in the captain’s thigh.

‘What can I do?’ Georgie asked, going to the bed.

Henderson glanced up. ‘Not going to faint on me?’

‘No, I shan’t do that,’ she replied. ‘Can I do that while you attend to the wound in his thigh? It looks as if it is the worst. Shall you stitch it or apply a tourniquet until the doctor arrives?’