Evelyn Richardson Read Online Free Page B

time came. That family of hers…” Farmer Griggs’s wife shook her head resignedly. “To think that they would deny a child of theirs in trouble. You know me, my lady, I am as respectable as the next person, but when being respectable comes down to turning away your own flesh and blood, well, I am against it. But then the Wantages always did hold a very high opinion of themselves, and what with Mrs. Wantage giving herself airs because her daughter had become maid to a great lady of fashion, well, I say that such pride was well served when her daughter returned home carrying the great lord’s baby. But to turn her out in disgrace, a girl six months gone without a penny to her name, why, it is downright cruel, not to mention unchristian. I am surprised they can hold up their heads in church. And I shudder to think what would have become of Betty and the baby if you had not taken her in.”
    Mrs. Griggs also leaned over to stroke a downy cheek. “And to think they would deprive themselves of this little laddie here, all for the sake of their precious respectability. I ask you, is there any one among us who has not made a mistake in their lives that we can be so hard on those who have?”
    Catherine’s gaze traveled from the baby’s big dark blue eyes to his button nose and rose bud lips and, smiling, she shook her head slowly. “No, Mrs. Griggs, there is not.”
    Even though this was the answer her rhetorical question had anticipated, the farmer’s wife was somewhat surprised at her visitor’s tone of regret. That, and the hint of sadness in her eyes, almost made it appear as though the young widow herself were thinking of some past indiscretion of her own. But it was impossible to imagine someone as levelheaded and sensible as Lady Catherine Granville ever giving in to youthful folly, or folly of any kind for that matter. In fact, it was difficult to picture Lady Catherine as anything but the perfect image of well-brought up gentility whose unshakable decorum could be counted on to carry her through even the most unnerving and distressing of situations with coolness and aplomb.
    In fact, Catherine felt all her coolness and aplomb evaporating as she bestowed a last kiss on the baby’s cheek. Casting a reluctant glance around the cheery kitchen, she sighed gently. “Well, I must be off. I shall just stop by the pasture on my way out.”
    Betty was just filling the last of the milk pails when she caught sight of her benefactress. “Good morning, my lady,” she called, her fresh, open face lighting up at the sight of Catherine standing in the gate between the farmyard and the pasture. “Have you been visiting our Tom? Is he not a dear wee thing? Such a delight as he is to his mama’s heart and so good. If you had told me six months ago what a comfort to us all that lad would be I would have thought you fit for Bedlam, but there, life is funny, is it not?”
    Betty gave a final pat to the cow’s sleek rump, rose, and wiping her hands on her apron picked up her stool and her pail. “Nor would I have believed you if two years ago you had told me that I would be able to say that I prefer a simple existence in Somerset to all the excitement of London.” Her blue eyes shone suspiciously and she blinked rapidly. “And it is all owing to you, my lady. If you had not taken me in in my hour of need and let me help out at the dower house until the baby came, I do not know what would have become of me. Young Tom and I owe you a debt as we can never repay, and we shall never forget it.”
    “Think nothing of it, Betty. I am only sorry that my household is too small to need another maid on a permanent basis.”
    “Oh no, my lady. Farm work is what I truly love. There is something honest and true about it, hard as it is, that makes it more satisfying than waiting on the finest lady in the land, your ladyship excepted, of course. And the Griggses are that kind. I could not be happier where I am, nor more grateful. But now, if