All About Seduction(31)

The click of the door jarred Jack awake. It wasn’t as if he slept well other than the first hour after the laudanum took effect. And he’d given up trying to lie down and doze propped against the pillows.

“Jack!” pipped Beth. Her little feet pattered across the floor. She raised a knee to scramble up onto the bed.

He closed his eyes and braced for the pain. After the doctor left, his leg had been on fire, but he was grateful to still have it.

A swift rustle and the absence of the mattress sinking down had him cracking an eye. Mrs. Broadhurst held Beth around the waist. Beth’s legs dangled down. Both of them looked rather startled.

Beth twisted around to see who had grabbed her. “Who are you?”

Mrs. Broadhurst hesitated.

“This is Mrs. Broadhurst, Beth. This is her house.” He switched his gaze to the woman he’d been waiting all day to spend time alone with. “This is my sister.”

Mrs. Broadhurst bent over and set Beth on her feet. “You may sit in the chair, but you don’t want to hurt your brother by climbing over him.”

Beth wound her hands together and twisted back and forth. She cast a shy glance toward Mrs. Broadhurst and then turned toward Jack as if her curiosity would burst out of her if she contained it any longer. “Mama said you broke your leg.”

Jack pulled back the covers and let her see the thick bandage and splint. Although he didn’t want to pretend to be cheerful, he couldn’t send Beth on her way after she’d walked all the way—he searched the doorway for another sibling—alone.

Beth’s eyes grew round. “Can you walk?”

“Not really.”

“He will in time,” said Mrs. Broadhurst gently.

Beth climbed onto the chair. “Will he have a funny walk like that man at the dairy?”

“He limps,” explained Jack.

“We’ll have to see,” said Mrs. Broadhurst with a smile.

Jack’s heart thudded. If only her smile had been for him. He didn’t known if the brush of her hand against his inner leg last night was an accident or deliberate, but he had been too exhausted to pursue it. If he touched her, would she welcome it? Or did he just want her so badly that he had put extra meaning on her assistance?

“School was crowded today,” pronounced Beth. “There weren’t enough seats for everyone. I had to sit on the floor.”

Jack turned his gaze toward Mrs. Broadhurst.

“Children under the age of nine will no longer be allowed to work in the mill,” she explained, “and children under twelve may work half hours only if they attend school for four hours.”

Jack winced. So because of the accident, she had finally convinced her husband to banish the littlest ones from the mill. He only hoped he wouldn’t be around to be blamed when the lost wages were felt. With luck he’d be in London and far removed from the troubles in this mill town.

“Mattie cried all day,” Beth continued on, blithely unaware. “Her mother told her it was her fault they wouldn’t have enough to eat.”

“No one will starve,” objected Mrs. Broadhurst.

“They might,” said Jack. “Mattie’s mother is a widow and they need all their wages to get by.”

Mrs. Broadhurst paled and her lips pressed together.

He knew she meant well, but she didn’t know what it was like for the families like his with lots of mouths to feed. “It would have helped if wages had gone up to compensate for the families who will lose money.”

“Don’t they want education for their children?”

“They want to eat first. Wages haven’t changed in a decade, but the cost of food has.”

Her throat worked. No doubt the situation was more complicated than she’d allowed. “I wouldn’t let anyone starve. I can supply food to those in need.”

“No one wants handouts. They want to earn their own way,” Jack said softly. “They have their pride.” Even his stepmother hated that she needed to rely on his wages to make ends meet.

“I see,” Mrs. Broadhurst said stiffly.

He reached for her hand, but as soon as his fingers brushed hers, she jerked her hand away. He should have known better. She might place her hand on his forehead or assist him with his personal needs, but she wouldn’t want to encourage him to think they were intimates. Obviously she didn’t want him to touch her.

He must have misinterpreted her hand on his thigh. Likely she was only helping him and he’d magnified the brush of her hand into meaning more because he wanted it to mean more.