Page 55 of The Secret Word
What she said made sense. Reluctant though he was to leave her and the twins, Chris had a job to do. It wasn’t going to go away, either. “When will the children be old enough to travel?” he asked. “Your father is talking about sending me to Yorkshire, but I am not going on a month-long trip without you and the babies.”
Clem had no idea. “I expect, as long as we did short days and stayed in comfortable accommodations, we could travel once I have been churched,” she said. “I could ask Mrs. Greene. She might have an idea. And Aunt Fern.”
They left it at that, and a week later, after some intensive letter writing to arrange all his meetings and visits, Chris left for London.
In addition to his duties at Wright’s, Chris had a commission on behalf of his family that had him calling on his relatives, and Ramping Billy.
“You want me towhat?” said Billy, shock showing in his expression for a fraction of a second before he reimposed his usual bland facade. Even so, his disbelief colored his voice as he said, “Me? Does Mrs. Satterthwaite know about this?”
“Clem and I agree, Billy. We would like you to be William’s godfather. If not for you, she and I would not be married. I would not have survived on the streets if I hadn’t met you, for a start.”
Billy slowly shook his head, as if he could not believe his ears. “A godfather? Me? Christopher, I’m the last person you should ask. I haven’t been in a church since I escaped the orphanage. Besides, I’m probably Irish. If anything, I should be a Catholic.”
It wasn’t a “no”. Chris knew a plea to be persuaded when he heard one. “If you were in an orphanage, I imagine you were baptized in the Church of England,” he said.
A quirk of an eyebrow was Billy’s only answer.
Good enough. “That’s all the vicar will want to know,” Chris said. “Clem and I want our son to have you on his side. We don’t trust Wright, and if anything happens to us, we need someone powerful to keep Wright in check. You look after your people. Will you please be one of William’s godparents?”
He sat through a long silence while Billy stared at the wall behind his head. Eventually, the man took a deep breath and let it out. “You called him William to twist my arm,” he accused.
“We called him ‘William’ to honor the man who saved my life and educated me to be a gentleman,” Chris countered. “His name is not going to change, whatever you decide.”
“Who are you choosing as his other godparents?”
The church required each child to have three godparents—two women and a man for Christobel and two men and a woman for William.
“Lady Fernvale and Lord Crosby.”
More silence.
“I’ll do it,” Billy said. “Now go away and let me get on with my work. Tell Tiny the date, time, and place. I’ll be there. Oh, and Christopher?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Tell the vicar that my name is William Harrington.” Billy picked up a sheaf of papers from his desk and began reading.
Chris backed out, wondering what that was all about. William Harrington? But he knew that asking questions would get him nowhere.
Lady Fernvale had already been asked to be godmother to both children, and during his next two calls, Chris acquired the agreement of Lady Crosby to be little Bel’s second godmother and his father’s cousin Lord Halton, another powerful man, to be godfather to Bel.
Chris also took the opportunity to have dinner at Harry’s club with Harry and Michael on his first night in London, and at Harry’s brother Lord Thurgood’s place on the second night. They were both much pleasanter than the two noon meals he shared with Wright, throughout which Wright had boasted to the other invited employees about his prodigy of a grandson, and shared grandiose plans for the child’s future.
After the second meal, on his third day from home, Chris made his final report to Wright of what he’d accomplished since he arrived in London.
“Good. That’s acceptable,” said Wright. “When do you plan to return?”
“I will talk to Clem, sir, but I think three days every month should be sufficient, with the rest by correspondence. The twins’ christening is in less than three weeks, so I’ll see you then.”
“And Yorkshire? It is not urgent, but I need someone I trust to travel up there and check that I’m being told the truth.”
“September, we thought, sir. I’ll plan to be up there for several weeks, so I shall take Clem and the twins with me.” Thebabies would be six months old by then, and Clem thought they would be able to manage the journey.
Wright’s eyebrows shot up. He frowned, but he said nothing except, “September should work.”
“I’ll be on my way, then,” said Chris. In three hours, more or less, he would be home with his family. It could not be soon enough.
Chapter Twenty-Two
