Chapter seventeen- Beatrice

Beatrice looked around in amazement at how bright and clear the night was. The flickering flames lit up the night sky like it was day. Thankfully, what little air movement there was, pushed the majority of smoke and sparks away from the river. She could plainly see the faces of the townsfolk gathered all around them. Not that she recognized more than a few.

Sissy had refused to interact with anyone not of their class or equal standing. Which meant she had alienated most of the people in town, even before Beatrice had come to live with her. Being a shy, awkward young teenager, Beatrice hadn't had the courage to even attempt to make friends. Not that anyone had given her the least bit of a chance. She was considered as haughty and contemptuous as her sister-in-law, and she was never given the chance to alter that misconception either. The townsfolk virtually ignored her just as staunchly as they avoided her sister-in-law. Even the children were ostracized and so their little family had lived a very isolated, solitary existence.

The only interaction she had was with the clerks and shopkeepers she met on her daily trip to the shops. Some of them were friendly and helpful. But the majority of them were only civil so long as she had gold to spend. As the family fortunes had plummeted and the funds had dwindled, she had been forced to become creative with the budget. Then the merchants had begun to look on her with suspicion rather than welcome. They were not so civil when she had little to no gold to spend.

"Where will we go now?" Martine yawned widely.

Beatrice shifted to pull the sleepy child onto her lap and the little girl hugged her doll close as she snuggled into her aunt's arms, eyelids drooping. A glance at the other two showed they were also flagging. After all, it was well passed their usual bedtime. Even all that excitement of escaping the fire wasn't enough to combat their exhaustion. Just as well. Beatrice really didn't have an answer to give them. She had no idea where they would go or what they would do. They had no home, no income, nothing. They had no family left to appeal to. There really was no one they could turn to for help.

Her eyes lit upon poor Teddy. The boy sat on his skinny backside, with his knees bent back and his feet turned out to either side of those narrow hips. Those big feet of his which, for the time being, fit perfectly in her brother's old shoes. But what would happen when he outgrew even those? Felicia was in an even worse predicament. She had already outgrown all her old clothes and desperately needed new ones. Beatrice had planned to cut down a few of her own gowns for the girl, but that was impossible now they had only the clothes their backs.

Beatrice sighed heavily. She had no choice really. The only option she could see filled her with dread. She would have to accept Mr. Narwhal's proposal, if the offer was still on the table. Putting not just her life and welfare into his keeping, but those of the children as well. Allowing him full rights to her body. Just the idea had her stomach twisting into knots of apprehension.

No doubt he would expect complete obedience. The man would dictate how she should dress, where she could go, how she should comport herself. And he would be in complete control. She knew that without a doubt. His first concern was his fortune and how to increase it. She would be nothing more than window dressing for his elbow. How would he react to the fact that she was now responsible for three orphans? What guarantee was there that, after he'd gotten what he wanted, he wouldn't renege on any promises made to take on the care of the children? She would not be surprised if he did. Her only option was really no option at all.

Her gaze moved to Gilbert, who sat quietly resting at her side. He was gazing about, taking in the devastation and despair all around them with a concerned frown. If only she could place herself and the children in his care. He had already proven himself a noble, honorable gentleman. Entertaining little Martine, pacifying Felicia, even stepping in to protect young Teddy. He would make a wonderful father. But it was impossible.

She couldn't impose upon him and his gracious hospitality any longer. The man was only here with her in the first place because she'd begged him to help her rescue her family. Now that they were safe, he could go back to his castle in the woods and enjoy his peaceful solitude. Not to mention the fact that he was a bachelor, she was an unmarried woman. Even with the three children as chaperones, her reputation would be in tatters if she was discovered. If it was known she had already spent several days alone in his company, she would be labeled a loose woman. No matter that she had been ill and out of her head with fever for the majority of the time. No, the only way they could accept Mr. Lourson's hospitality, would be if they married. A drastic solution for temporary accommodations. No, it was impossible, no matter how appealing the idea.

Beatrice wrenched her gaze away and caught sight of a familiar tall, lanky form moving among the crowd. It was the friendly clerk who worked for Mr. Narwhal. His name escaped her for the moment. She watched him as he stopped to converse with one group after another. He would gesture to the ruined church, everyone would nod and then he moved on. As the man drew closer, she caught bits and snippets of what was being said. Something about the Sheriff and the Mayor calling for all able-bodied residents to a meeting. Finally, the clerk arrived at their little group. Beatrice was taken completely by surprise when he walked right up to Gilbert and offered his hand with a friendly smile.

"Mr. Lourson, what a pleasure to see you, sir. I didn't think you came to town through the week."

Gilbert rose to his feet returning the friendly smile with a grim twist of his lips. Taking the man's hand in a firm shake, he nodded in silent greeting. Both men were tall but Gilbert still seemed to tower over the skinny clerk. This didn't seem to bother either of them. Obviously, the two knew each other well. Beatrice supposed she should not have been surprised. Of course, Gilbert would know the man. Everyone did business in Mr. Narwhal's Mercantile.

"It's terrible times we are having here, for certain. First that fever and now this conflagration." He shook his head and ran a hand over his balding pate.

Gilbert raised one brow and tilted his head in question.

"Oh, yes. You probably didn't hear of the sickness that raged through the town. Sad thing, that. Took more than a few lives, it did. Almost overnight too." The clerk gestured to the fire steadily devouring the last few structures on the far side of the river. "Then there's this catastrophe. No one really knows how the fire started. According to conjecture right now, it seems to have begun at the Hostlers with a carriage lantern knocked over in the stable. Apparently, nobody noticed until the barn was ablaze." The clerk shook his head and clicked his tongue. "A sad tale, for certain."

Gilbert nodded in solemn commiseration. It was then the other man noticed Beatrice sitting there.

"Miss Smail. I beg your pardon. I didn't see you there." The clerk smiled cordially.

Suddenly the man's name popped to mind.

"Quite alright, Mr. Sumter I am glad to see you managed to escape the flames unscathed."

"That I did, Miss. I wasn't about to roast in that slave-house that passes for the Mercantile." Mr. Sumter waved his hand dismissively. "Or rather it did. Not much left of the place now."

"Yes, it truly is a shame." Beatrice bobbed her head in agreement.

"I don't know as I'd say that." The clerk grinned unabashed. Then his smile slipped and his mood turned serious. "Mr. Narwhal was searching everywhere for you, Miss."

She could hear the warning in his tone but

allowed her lips to widen into a sly grin.

"Lucky for me, he didn't find me."

Mr. Sumter let out a sudden bark of laughter.

"I would have to concur with that Miss." He chuckled for a moment, then sobered. "It's a shame he had to involve the Sheriff."

"Shameful indeed." Beatrice agreed.

An idea occurred to her. She could be perfectly truthful and make it sound like Mr. Narwhal had completely wasted his time. The words tumbled passed her lips before she had a chance to reconsider.

"My family has been suffering with this fever. Young Teddy and myself were deathly ill." Beatrice swallowed hard and added solemnly. "Indeed, my sister-in-law succumbed only this morning. "

Mr Sumter shook his head mournfully.

"My condolences, Miss, to you all." He bowed his head and clucked his tongue in sympathy. "Unfortunately, many families have suffered similarly. There isn't one household that hasn't been affected. Those that survived the fever, have now been forced from their homes by this catastrophe."

"We were indeed fortunate that Mr. Lourson happened upon us in our hour of need. I could never have managed without his assistance." Beatrice added, making it sound as if they had met by chance. The story was only slightly skewed from the truth.

"Indeed, you were, Miss." The skinny clerk clapped Gilbert on the shoulder with a friendly, if somewhat sober grin. "Mr. Lourson doesn't have much to say but he is most willing to lend his assistance wherever he can. Why, many a time he's come into the Mercantile and found me floundering under a pile of stock. Before I could even blink, he was leaping in to lighten my burden."

Beatrice sent Gilbert a genuine grateful smile.

"I am not surprised."

Mr. Sumter glanced slyly from Gilbert to her and back. Beatrice couldn't help the blush that tinted her cheeks and her lashes brushed her cheeks in modest discomfort.

"Ah, I see." The man grinned, having drawn his own conclusions. "Well, I had best be on my way. It's my job to spread the word."

"Spread the word?" Beatrice inquired, tilting her head in question as Gilbert echoed the movement curiously.

"Yes, the Sheriff and the Mayor are calling all able-bodied residents to a meeting in the church. Everyone is to gather there as soon as possible."

"Oh, yes." She nodded. "We had best be going then. Thank you, Mr. Sumter, for letting us know."

"Just doing my job, Miss. Good evening." Mr. Sumter tipped an imaginary hat and hurried away.

Gilbert bent and lifted a slumbering Martine from her lap. As he straightened with the child cradled in his arms, Beatrice got to her feet.

"What shall we do about the children? I hate the thought of waking them. They are all exhausted." She queried, thinking aloud and not really expecting an answer.

A soft voice, crackling with age spoke from behind her, taking her by surprise.

"We are gathering the little ones over in the graveyard near the old bell tower." Beatrice spun around to see an elderly lady leaning heavily on a sturdy cane. "Those of us too elderly or infirm to combat the flames will sit vigil over the little darlings while their parents are busy."

Beatrice sighed with relief and nodded her understanding as she smiled gratefully.

"Thank you, Madame. It will ease my mind considerably to have them in such expert care."

The old woman simply nodded and slowly hobbled on her way. Beatrice turned back to her little group and noticed Martine was not the only one who had succumbed to slumber. Felicia lay with her head tucked up in her brother's lap and Teddy was leaned against the stone wall at his back. Both of them had dozed off. She glanced up and met Gilbert's eye.

"I hate to disturb them, but we don't dare simply leave them here. What if they wake to find us gone?"

Gilbert nodded his agreement. He handed Martine back to Beatrice and bent to kneel by the other two. She watched as he gently shook poor Teddy's shoulder. The boy roused, blinking sleepily. Gilbert motioned to the bell tower and the others gathering there and Teddy nodded in understanding. He waited while the big man lifted his sister from his lap, then slowly climbed to his feet.

"There's to be a meeting in the old church." Beatrice told the boy softly as they started toward the crowd. "Will you please stay with the girls while Mr. Lourson and I go find out what is planned?"

"Of course, Auntie Bea." Teddy answered, his young voice crackling with sleep. "Here, let me carry Martine."

Before Beatrice could protest, he had lifted his baby sister from her arms and was striding off in Gilbert's wake.