02

Suddenly, a firm feminine voice rang out from the crowd and the vendor's body stiffened as his hand gripping the ugly knife paused in his vengeance. Ginelle remained riveted with terror, her eyes barely leaving the blade hovering above her delicate bone.

"Sir!" that solid, methodic voice called again, catching Ginelle's attention and she cautiously turned her wary gaze from the blade to survey a woman approaching with an elderly maid trailing at her heels.

She was tall for a woman with dark, raven curls piled high atop her head with several wayward strands framing her oval face. Her eyes were a deep azure blue, darkened from the obvious display of anger etched into her refined, graceful features. The woman was beautiful draped in a thick, velvet cloak as she stood proud, her gaze unwavering as she studied the vendor in evident disapproval. She was equipped in a lovely gown of sapphire satin, the color enhancing the dark, smoky gaze glaring relentlessly at her captor.

"Milady-" the vendor started only to be abruptly dismissed as the woman's resolute voice interrupted.

"Unhand the child." She stated firmly, her unyielding voice catching the attention of spectators nearby.

The vendor's grip tightened a fraction and Ginelle winced as she peered helplessly up at the woman, the only civilized being to ever show a smidge of kindness to her well being since her father. She saw a sudden realization form in the deep-set of the blue eyes staring back at her but it quickly disappeared as she turned her full attention back to the merchant.

"Tis but a mere child that takes an apple from your stand." She said, "Whatever the cost of your precious fruit, I'll gladly bear the expense."

"I grow weary of these streets rats!" the man hissed through clenched teeth as he jerked on Ginelle's wrist, forcing another cry from her throat.

Ginelle watched as the woman reached within a soft, leather pouch and withdrew several gold coins and extended the generous pile to the merchant's ravenous gaze. "I believe this is a sufficient amount to compensate for the lack of one apple and a satchel of your fruit." The man hesitated and she added, "If the amount is not agreeable to your acquisitive taste than I shall find a more willing peddler." She slowly began to turn away and any hope that had flared within Ginelle's chest suddenly diminished.

"Wait!" cried the vendor and the woman turned back to him, a quizzical brow arching as her hand hovered between them.

The merchant shoved Ginelle away and she stumbled roughly before falling to the cobblestone.

Lady Eloise Ashford stiffened as the small child hit the ground, painfully scraping her palms along the roughened street as she attempted to catch her fall. Her eyes narrowed on the short man staring vigorously at the coin in her hand. She thrust the money into his greedy hands and he turned to bag a portion of fruit. Eloise handed the fruit to Lucile and moved to kneel before the child as she slowly collected herself.

Instantly, the child tensed as her attentive gaze swept over Eloise. She sensed a flight-or-fight state and sought quickly to ease her fears. "You need not be afraid." She said soothingly, reaching out to push a strand of hair aside that had fallen free from the cap. The skittish child jerked beneath her tender gesture and eased back onto her haunches, ready to flee if necessary.

When she had first set eyes on the child entangled in the vendor's grip, she had mistaken the child for a lad that is until she had stared into a pair of haunting, brown eyes, eyes so large and beautiful that they couldn't possibly be thought of a young boy. She could see such heart-wrenching sorrow in those eyes that it had nearly stolen the very air from her lungs, a sorrow so deep that it matched the capacity of her own suffering.

The child was donned in nothing but rags and filth, the linen cap concealing a mass of tangled hair. She couldn't be more than nine summers; mayhap younger for the clothes nearly engulfed her petite frame. It was than she noticed the ugly bruise just below her jaw line where a large hand had struck her.

Her chest ached with concern at the child's vulnerability and innocence. One so young should never endure a life of poverty and hardship. The child belonged to someone and she of all people knew the extreme of heartache when losing a loved one. She couldn't bear the thought of leaving her to the streets, to fall prey to those like the merchant, or worse, forced to deal with the ugliness that surely waited among these dangerous streets at night.

"Are you hungry?" she asked softly, simultaneously catching a spark of light in her soft eyes. Yet, the child remained cautious, her stance indicating her reluctance. Evidently the child had been through many hardships and was understandably guarded.

She smiled at the child and motioned to the bag of fruit cradled in Lucile's arms, a disgruntled look plastered to the older woman's face as she observed her mistress. "I have plenty of fruit to share." Eloise paused as those brown eyes glanced at the bundle. A dark brow lifted as Eloise continued, "Or mayhap you would prefer a warm meal?"

As if on cue, her treacherous stomach growled nosily and Ginelle cringed on the inside. She wanted desperately to trust this woman whose kindness struck her nonplussed. Why would a woman of her stature show any concern to an orphan such as herself unless she had ulterior motives? She wanted willingly to go with this gentle woman with her beautiful smile and glinting blue eyes, but years of neglect and abuse forced her to be cautious. She had made the mistake of trusting a stranger once; never would she make that mistake twice. Yet, it had been days since she had eaten and she didn't know how much longer she could continue without putting something in her belly.

Those deep, azure eyes softened as the woman continued, "My name is Eloise. What is your name, little one?"

Ginelle bit down on her lower lip for she was unable to resist the gentle lilt of that voice and her name slipped out. "Ginelle." She said it so faintly, fearful that someone passing by might hear of it and inform Pierino of her whereabouts. Immediately she regretted giving her name for it would be a grave mistake to give out her name so carelessly.

Eloise face broadened with a triumphant smile as she said, "That is a beautiful name. I would really appreciate your company for luncheon, Ginelle. Would you be so kind as to oblige my wish and have tea with me?"

Ginelle bit down on the automatic 'aye' that surfaced in her throat and studied the woman kneeling before her and then cast a wary glance at the elderly woman standing a few feet behind, clearly displeased by her pinched expression.

She felt a deep, sinking feeling in her chest as her eyes averted to the bag of fruit in the maid's hands and she turned tearfully back to Eloise. "I c-cannot repay ye for the fruit." She said solemnly.

Eloise features contorted in disbelief that the child would concern herself with such a petty matter that was of no significance to her. "Can we be friends?" she asked gently.

Ginelle was hesitant but the possibility of befriending this compassionate, enchanting woman, even for a brief moment forced an automatic nod. Eloise smiled, "Than as companions can I not favor you with apples?"

Ginelle smiled tentatively.

Eloise smile widened, "Now, will you come with me so that we may get that warm meal?"

Ginelle struggled with impulse as she contemplated her rising fears. Surely it wouldn't hurt to spend just a little time with this woman whom she wanted desperately to trust but her instincts warned her to be cautious.

Eloise extended a hand to her and said reassuringly, "You can trust me, Ginelle."

Ginelle hesitantly lifted a small hand to that larger one and froze as she turned her palm over to inspect the gush of blood seeping from a deep gash along the inside of her hand. She gasped and wrenched her hand back, pressing the wound against her chest, in fear that she would ruin Eloise's beautiful gown.

Sensing her inward thoughts, Eloise reached out and pried open her small fist to inspect the ugly gash. "I can apply a little salve to heal that right up." Her hand moved to Ginelle's elbow and pulled her gently to her feet.

Eloise reached within her cloak and withdrew a cream handkerchief and gently dabbed away the blood. "I've ruined it." Ginelle said morosely.

Eloise laughed softly, "Do not fret, sweeting. I've plenty." She wrapped the delicate cloth around her wounded hand and got to her feet. "Come, let us get out of this dreadful weather."

Ginelle timidly accepted her offered hand, her fears warning her that she was making a mistake, yet this woman had rescued her from a fate that could have left her with a severed hand. She sensed a maternal nature and a lasting sadness buried behind the depths of her blue eyes. Ginelle had suffered many hardships to recognize another grieving soul and as much as her fears advised her to be mindful of the consequences of her carelessness in trusting a stranger, she was intrigued to know more about Lady Eloise Ashford.

**********

It wasn't until they left the outskirts of the city behind that she began to panic. Ginelle gripped the leather seat as the carriage rocked precariously from side to side, heightening her fears.

Sensing her unease, Eloise said reassuringly, "You need not be afraid, Ginelle. The carriage is perfectly safe." Then another thought occurred, "You've never been to the country, have you?"

"We're going to the country?" Ginelle questioned nervously.

Eloise nodded, "Yes, to my manor."

"Tis the Ashford plantation." The elderly maid added her voice stern and quite direct.

Ginelle frowned for she knew there was some significance to the older woman's statement but the thought quickly diminished as the carriage turned onto a winding, dirt road leading up to the most magnificent structure enclosed in a valley of oak trees. The white manor was built in brilliant sophisticated construction, laid out along the northern boundaries. The massive plantation house was surrounded in thick vegetation and outlined in lush greenery that stretched for miles.

"Ye live here?" she asked in awe.

Eloise nodded, "I am the Lady of the manor."

"Lord Ashford is master here." The maid stated and Ginelle sensed a warning beneath the older woman's somber tone.

Ginelle turned to study the maid just as Eloise cast the elderly woman a look of exasperation. "Is he yer husband?"

Eloise suddenly laughed, "Dear no, he is my brother."

"Master Dorian is a prominent businessman." The elderly maid said.

"What does he do?" Ginelle asked, curious to know more about Eloise and her family. Was he anything like his sister? She couldn't imagine a man, any man for that matter to be as kind and gentle-natured as Lady Eloise.

"He grows and exports tobacco. I do not particularly approve all that which it entails but it is a profitable business." Eloise stated.

Ginelle frowned, "Entails?"

"Our plantation is one of the largest with the finest crops among the region. My brother is gone for several months, even years at a time, tending to business. Even as we speak he is away on a transatlantic trade. The business is quite demanding."

They rolled to an abrupt halt and Eloise descended from the carriage with the assistance of a footman, followed by her dutiful, sour maid. Eloise extended a hand to Ginelle, mindful that she would not accept the footman's assistance. Ginelle gingerly allowed Eloise to assist her from the carriage and fell in at her side as the two older women made their way inside, Eloise tugged lightly on Ginelle, keenly aware of her reluctance to follow. Inside they were greeted by the steward, a tall slender man with sharp inquisitive eyes that swept over Ginelle intently.

"Good evening, Bogart. My guest and I will take our luncheon in my room, if you will have Noelle send us a tray, please."

"Aye, milady." Bogart replied, tipping his head with considerable courtesy.

Eloise led Ginelle upstairs, laughing softly as Ginelle lingered behind to study the enormous manor with its rich, mahogany furniture and beautifully polished floors. She caught several displays of art lining the corridors and thick tapestries along the walls.

Ginelle never imagined that she would come in contact with such a lavish home made of fine material and admirable collections of certain wealth.

They made their way up a winding stairway and down several corridors until they finally came to a door. Ginelle gasped as Eloise opened the door and stepped into the room. The chamber itself was larger than the mere shack she and Pierino had shared. The balcony drapes had been pulled aside so that the evening sun could paint gentle hues of gold across the charming cream, canopy bed with a wide headboard done in intricate detail of vines and leaves. Four posts supported a sheer white material to drape around the extravagant bed supporting a high mattress with a number of feather-stuffed pillows and thick white coverlets. Beautiful white furniture was dispersed throughout the room which too displayed the same design of vines and leaves etched into the smooth wood. A marble mantel took up most of the right wall where a maid had already stoked a fire, the flames crackling in defiance to warm the slightly chilled room.

Eloise crossed the room and removed her velvet cloak and placed it on the bed. Ginelle remained in the doorway, unable to move, fearful that she would ruin the beautiful carpet that covered a large portion of the floor.

"Come, warm yourself by the fire." Eloise said, motioning to the hearth.

Ginelle stiffened as impulse urged her to do just that. Her bones ached for the warmth of a fire and the plush cushions of the white sofa occupying the center of the room. She peered down at her bedraggled attire and retreated a few paces.

Eloise frowned, "Will you not come and sit with me? I would like very much to enjoy your company for the evening."

Ginelle's hand entwined nervously as she stared down at her sooty boots. "I am unclean." She stated, embarrassed.

Eloise moved to stand above her and gently lifted her downcast face. "Do not concern yourself with materialistic items." She stepped away and moved to sit on the sofa and patted the cushion next to her.

Reluctantly, Ginelle crossed the spacious room to the vacant spot beside Eloise and lowered herself to the edge of the seat. Immediately warmth began to seep into her weary bones and she felt the tension slightly ease from her muscles.

"How many summers are you, Ginelle?"

Ginelle bit down on her lower lip, hesitating before replying. "I am fourteen." A sudden perplexed expression contorted Eloise's face.

"When was the last time you have eaten?"

Ginelle paused and that alone answered Eloise's question as she studied the thin child sitting at her side. She was emaciated, her cheeks sunken with black circles beneath her haunting eyes. Due to her obvious fragile and thin state, she had estimated the child to be at least eight summers but fourteen? The evident lack of nutrition and warmth had taken its toll on the girl.

"Can you remove your hat?" Eloise asked gently.

Ginelle waited, contemplating whether she should really remove it. It was her security blanket, her disguise. Slowly, she reached up and removed the hat. It unleashed a long tangled mass of silver-blond hair. The lack of nourishment had done some damage for her hair was thin but it had potential to be radiant. Eloise studied the garments that covered her little frame and wondered what horrid display of protruding bones awaited beneath her swallowing attire.

"Why do you hide your beautiful hair?"

Ginelle worried her lower lip with her teeth as she looked away. Should she really confide in Eloise? Her heart ached painfully, wanting desperately to trust someone, anyone. She ached for companionship and a sense of security. Before she could help herself, against her self-discipline, the words began to spill freely.

"My guardian forced me to pick-pocket." She fell silent, expecting Eloise to scold her but she remained silent, listening intently and so Ginelle slowly continued. "He claimed that I was to amend his good deed in taking me in off the streets."

"Did he hit you?" Eloise asked, studying the ugly bruise just below Ginelle's jaw.

Ginelle lifted a shaky hand to the tender, purple abrasion where he had struck her so forcefully that the blow had sent her reeling backwards. "Aye, many times."

"And you ran away?"

Ginelle met that azure gaze filled with such compassion and sympathy that she nearly burst into tears. "He had others plans for me."

Eloise stiffened, realizing why the child concealed her hair. Even she had mistaken her at first glance for a lad and that had been the purpose of the hat.

"And this man-" Eloise asked, "Is he dangerous?"