“Perhaps I have judged him too harshly,” said Miss Tilney, looking shamefaced. “I had no idea.”
“That is shocking,” said Miss Parker, looking like she was about to burst into tears. “I feel so very sorry for him. To lose his wife and daughter at once…why, it is more than a soul should ever be forced to bear.”
“I will talk to him later,” said Sister Mary Majella, sighing deeply. “The poor man needs spiritual succour. It is far longer lasting relief than the false comfort found within a bottle, so it is.”
Mr Giles returned with the drinks. Everyone smiled kindly at him, especially Miss Parker, who turned to him, engaging him in conversation. Mr Giles looked gratified and touched.
Ambrose studied her closely as they ate their meals. He couldn’t help it. She was really trying to be sociable towards everyone this evening. Prior to this, she had been slightly standoffish—exceedingly polite but trying to avoid getting embroiled in deep conversation. He thought that he had probably spoken to her the most out of everyone, and even so, she was still a bit haughty with him, wanting to keep her distance.
She is an enigma, he thought, his blood warming as he watched her. A puzzle that I would like to crack. What is her story?
He took a bite of his meal. The truth couldn’t be denied any longer. He wanted to get to know Miss Delia Parker. The attraction was so powerful and only getting stronger by the hour. It was time to explore it and see where it led.
***
Delia yawned discreetly. It was getting late. The room was beginning to thin. The locals were having their last drinks and going home. The barman cleared their plates. Everyone started heading towards the bar to pay for their meals and drinks.
It was her turn. She reached into the pocket of her dress, groping for her bag of coins. Her hand closed around nothing.
She almost fainted. Desperately, she kept groping, unable to believe that it was gone. Panic assailed her. She had to pay for this meal and her drinks. She had to have money to survive. There was nothing else.
“Is something wrong?” Mr Hartfield was at her elbow, looking at her intently. “What is it?”
“My bag of coins,” she breathed, her heart fluttering with fright. “It is not in my pocket!”
“Check your other pocket,” he whispered. “While you do so, I will pay for you.”
“No,” she cried, trying to keep her voice down. “I cannot let you do that! It would be most improper.”
“Miss Parker,” he whispered, his breath warming her face. “There is nothing improper about me loaning you some coin until you find where you have misplaced your bag. For that is all it is. A small loan.”
Tears sprang into her eyes. Mutely, she nodded. What else could she do? The barman was waiting, and she didn’t want to be accused of being a thief or whatever crime it was to purchase food and drink without the means to pay for it. Everyone was starting to look at her already. It was mortifying.
Mr Hartfield moved away, paying for her. She checked her other pocket discreetly. There was no bag of coins in that one, either.
Her breath came in short, sharp gasps. She was utterly ruined. She had no other money than what was in that bag. It meant that she wouldn’t be able to eat or drink for the remainder of this trip. It meant that she had no safety net to catch her when she got to Bradford. How would she even pay for a hackney to deliver her to Minnie’s grandmother’s home?
Her mind started spinning violently. She had felt alone many times on this trip, but never as much as she did now. The full reality of what she had done came crashing down upon her as forcefully as a pile of bricks upon her head.
She was alone. She had no money. She was not going to survive.
Mr Hartfield was at her side again, steering her away from the others. The touch of his hand upon her arm was reassuring. She wanted to turn to him, to cling to him, to place her head against his chest and weep.
But instead, she hugged her arms around herself. She felt cold—very cold.
“Did you find it?” he asked in the same low voice.
She shook her head. “No. It is not in either pocket.” Her face crumpled. “It is the only money I have in the world, Mr Hartfield. I do not know what I am going to do.”
“Listen to me,” he said, in a faint whisper, putting his hands on her shoulders and staring into her face. “You do not need to worry about money for this trip. I will gladly pay for your meals and drinks.” He paused. “But what will you do when you get to Bradford?”
She shook her head again. She was starting to feel numb all over. “I do not know. I cannot think. It is a catastrophe. I will have to find work straight away.” She took a deep, ragged breath. “Perhaps Miss Tilney can help me. She said she knows people who may offer me employment as a governess.”
He gazed at her steadily. “Are you quite certain you brought the bag with you downstairs? Could you have mislaid it in your room upstairs?”
She gaped up at him, not understanding for a moment. She was so numb. Then his words penetrated her consciousness.
“It is possible,” she whispered, her heart soaring with faint hope. “I changed dresses, you see. Perhaps it is still in the pocket of the one I was wearing….”