Gallant Waif by Anne Gracíe

would’ve said she has a deal of courage. But she’s not my maid,” Lady Cahill added finally. “Is that what she told you?”
    Jack frowned. “No,” he said slowly, thinking back. “I suppose I rather jumped to that conclusion.” His eyes narrowed, recalling Kate’s performance of a few minutes ago. “If she isn’t your maid, who is she?”
    “Her name is Kate Farleigh.”
    “I know that, ma’am. She did inform me of that. But what is she doing here?” Jack hung on to his patience.
    His grandmother shrugged vaguely. “Now, how should I know what she is doing, Jack? You know perfectly well I haven’t left this room since I arrived last night. She could be picking flowers or taking tea. How the deuce should I know what she is doing, silly boy?”
    Jack gritted his teeth. “Grandmama, why has this girl come to my house?”
    The old lady smiled guilelessly up at him. “Oh, well, as to that, dear boy, she had no choice. No choice at all.”
    “Grandmother!” Jack’s lips thinned.
    “Now don’t get tetchy with me, boy; it doesn’t work. Your grandfather used to rant and rave at me all the time.”
    “I fully understand why, and heartily sympathise with him!” her undutiful grandson snapped. “Now enough of this nonsense, Grandmama. Who is she?”
    “Her name is Kate Farleigh and she is the only daughter of my goddaughter, the late Maria Farleigh, nee Delacombe.” In a few pithy sentences, Lady Cahill put Jack in possession of the bare bones of Kate’s story, as she knew it.
    He frowned. “Then she is a lady.”
    “Of course.”
    “Well, she doesn’t behave like one.”
    “I saw no sign of any lack of breeding,” said his grandmother. “A temper, yes. Glared at me out of those big blue eyes of hers—”
    “Not blue. A sort of grey-green.”
    The old woman repressed a grin. So he had noticed the colour of her eyes, had he? “Whatever you say,” she agreed. “The gel glared at me, but there was no sign of panic— stayed as cool as you please as I whisked her off to heaven-knew-where.”
    His eyebrows rose at this. “What do you mean, you whisked her off?”
    “Oh, don’t look like that, Jack. It was the only possible thing. You said yourself the girl was on the verge of starvation. She was in dire straits. She is an orphan with no blood kin to turn to and has not a penny left in the world, unless I miss my guess.”
    Jack frowned, stretching his bad leg reflectively. “I still don’t understand.”
    “The girl has far more than her share of stubborn foolish pride. Just like her dratted father in that respect. Maria’s family wanted to make a huge settlement on her when she married him, Maria being their only child, but he would have none of it. Didn’t want it to be thought he was marrying her for her money. And look what has come of it! His own daughter dressed in rags and almost starving! Faugh! I have no patience with the man!”
    “But Kate. . .er…Miss Farleigh, Grandmama,” he prompted.
    “Said she wasn’t interested in taking charity from me or anyone else. Well, I had no time to stand around bandying words with her in her poky little hovel. So I kidnapped her.”
    “You what?” Jack stared at his grandmother in amazement. Truly, she was an outrageous old lady. His lips twitched and suddenly he couldn’t help himself; the chuckles welled up from somewhere deep inside him. He collapsed on the bed and laughed till his sides hurt.
    His grandmother watched him, deeply pleased. It was the first glimpse she’d had of the beloved grandson who had gone off to the wars. A scarred, silent, cynical stranger had returned in his place, and until she saw him laughing now, with such abandon, she had not realised how frightened she’d been that the old Jack had truly perished for ever in the wars.
    Something had shattered the deep reserve he’d adopted since he came home from the Peninsula War, crippled, disinherited, then jilted. He’d remained unnaturally calm, seeming not to