Page 59 of Lord of Mischief
Freddie nodded as he put his spoon to his mouth and tasted the soup.A hot meal was something he had not enjoyed for some time.The moment the soup touched his tongue he felt his mood lift.
“This is really good,” he remarked.
Hattie looked at him from over her pile of onions.“I’ve been making it for quite some time now—I’ve lost count of the number of batches.Though, I must confess, it has risen substantially in quality since Will began supporting the soup kitchen.We now have barley, meat, and herbs in it.The old mix was rather watery.”
Freddie took a second mouthful.The comforting warmth seeped deep into his bones.
“I see you didn’t bring your dog with you,” she said.
“No.Zeus is at home probably destroying something else with those sharp teeth of his,” he replied.
Hattie nodded.
“Zeus?So, you took my words to heart about the dog’s name being ridiculous.I think this new name suits him much better.I expect he is grateful.Well done, Freddie.”
He smiled.It was strangely comforting to sit with a friendly person and talk.He missed the simple pleasure of being with friends and family.
Hattie sat back from the onions and puffed out her cheeks.She sucked in a deep breath before rising quickly from the table and dashing outside.When she returned a few minutes later, her face was flushed and she was wiping tears from her eyes.
Freddie said nothing but having been at home during the early stages of both of Cecily’s pregnancies, he knew the signs of morning sickness only too well.He pushed his bowl to one side and picked up the knife.He was surprisingly adept at peeling and chopping onions and soon had the pile reduced and sitting on a plate.
“What else have you got for me to cut and peel?”he asked.
Hattie pointed to a large basket by the door piled high with carrots and turnips.He lugged the basket over and between the two of them they made short work of the rest of the vegetables.
The simple action of chopping vegetables brought a rhythmic calm to his troubled mind.By the time they were finished, he was prepared to admit he was actually enjoying himself.
“I should get the bowls ready,” said Hattie.She went to a nearby cupboard and picked up a pile of wooden bowls, which she brought over to the table.
Freddie followed suit.“Where did you get all these bowls?”he asked.
“Will managed to source two hundred for us from the army stores.Before that we had to manage with a lot fewer and people usually had to share.Some of these saw service with the troops on the battlefield at Waterloo … as did he,” she said.
Freddie stopped momentarily piling bowls on the table.He knew Will had been an agent for the crown in Paris during the war, but it had never occurred to him that Eve’s brother would have actually been in the midst of the final fight to topple Napoleon.“Will fought at Waterloo?”
“He didn’t actually draw his sword.He wasn’t stationed with any of the regular regiments; he was a special operative.He brought news to the allied command of Napoleon’s troop movements and suspected battle plans,” she replied.
Eve had said little of Will’s role during the war.Will Saunders had risked his life for his country, and an ass such as Freddie Rosemount had had the cheek to play the fool in front of him.He took a slow, deep breath in as a powerful sense of shame filled his heart.
Hattie hummed a happy tune to herself as she worked, leaving Freddie to make yet another promise that his selfish, self-centered days were a thing of the past.Trenton Embry had been right about second sons being able to live useful and purpose-filled lives.He needed to find his true path forward.
They had just finished piling the bowls and spoons onto the table when the first of the local parishioners arrived for their supper.Hattie and Freddie stationed themselves near the large pots of soup and soon had an orderly procession of hungry people rotating through the church.
A young lad no older than five held up his bowl and smiled a toothless grin.Freddie leant over and gave his dark brown hair a friendly ruffle while Hattie filled the boy’s bowl with soup.Freddie picked up a large piece of bread and handed it to the boy, whose eyes lit up at the unexpected bounty.
“You need a big piece so you can grow tall and strong,” he said.
The lad headed over to a nearby table with his soup and bread in hand, and Freddie stood and watched for a moment as he tucked eagerly into his meal.
This is worth more than all the finest houses and horses.
As soon as the first pot of soup was finished, Freddie cleaned it out and filled it with vegetables and barley to begin cooking for the later sitting.When the last of the vegetables went into the pot, he stood back and took in the humbling sight of fifty hungry people all quietly eating soup.
Hattie came and stood next to him.She reached out and gave him a gentle pat on the back.“Well done, Freddie.You helped to feed all these people.The children will sleep with full bellies tonight because of you.”
He was humbled by the simple goodness of Hattie Saunders and her selfless endeavors to help strangers.Once he would have dismissed her efforts as being that of a religious zealot, but at no time during the evening had she pressed anyone on the matter of God.
As she went about her work, he remembered the story of the Good Samaritan.What someone did in their life was the most important thing of all, not what they said they should do.All his puff and bluster about wanting to be a member of the Bachelor Board meant little when it had been about himself.Shame was one thing but knowing the pain he had caused his family—and especially Eve—stung him hard.The poor of London seated at the tables eating a meal made with honesty and love had more honor than him.
